Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most
by Trumpet-Geek
Summary: Ch. 28 -Ryoma's father is a conniving bastard when he wants to be.
1. Playing Nurse

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

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_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Tennis no Ohjisama! (tho I wish I did )

_Disclaimer2:_ I don't own the song Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most.

_Warnings:_ Probable OOC-ness, first time writing TnO, let alone Royal Pair. Established relationship. Un-betaed and written in ten minutes:)

_Summary:_ Ryoma and Atobe are watching a movie when Ryoma gets up to use the restroom.

_Snark2 Theme:_ #6 Playing nurse

Enjoy!

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Ryoma was currently sitting tucked next to Atobe's side, watching a film in Atobe's expansive cinema room, outfitted with a projector, theatre seats, a popcorn maker, a soda fountain (with Ponta, to the high school junior's delight), and every movie under the sun. Though most people would be enjoying the experience immensely, Ryoma was not.

It's not that he didn't enjoy Monkey King's presence -although that was sometimes a difficult task to accomplish in itself- but he had a raging headache and had had a sore throat for a few days now. He hadn't wanted to tell anyone, because he and Atobe were supposed to go on a date, and Ryoma rarely got to see Atobe since the latter started college. With Ryoma's tennis tournaments and school work, finding coinciding openings in their schedules was near impossible.

Ryoma snuggled into the warmth that was Atobe, sighing in resignation to his fate to endure the pain-filled night. Out of the corner of the junior's eye, he saw Atobe smile and decided it would be worth it.

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Forty-five minutes later, Ryoma had drunk enough water to sooth his sore throat and decided he needed to find a restroom. He untangled himself from his lover, whose rapt attention was focused on the movie, and muttered something about using the restroom before he left the room.

Ryoma was halfway to his destination when his vision began to swim. He shook his head, chalking it up to the massive headache he had and continued on his way. A few seconds later he began to shiver, even though he had been warm a few minutes ago. He had a bad feeling about this.

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Atobe looked up as the credits rolled across the screen. Frowning at the absence of a smaller body next to his, he racked his brain as he tried to remember where Ryoma had gone.

_'Ah yes, the restroom. But wait, that had been twenty minutes ago. It's unlikely he got lost, since he's been here so often in the past few years… He should have been back by now. Ore-sama shall look for him.'_

Atobe rose from the theatre seats and went looking for the high school junior. He checked all the bathrooms on the floor, and he was just beginning to get worried. Not a minute after, he stumbled upon Ryoma. The smaller man was laying face-down on the floor just outside the last bathroom on the floor, shivering and drenched in sweat.

Atobe's eyes widened in surprise and immediately rolled Ryoma over and picked him up bridal-style to carry him up the stairs to Atobe's room. As soon as Ryoma was tucked snuggly under the covers and had a cool wet washcloth over his forehead, Atobe called for the resident doctor.

Atobe paced as the doctor examined Ryoma, taking his temperature and blood pressure and such. After a few minutes, the doctor told an anxious Atobe that Ryoma had a fever and must have been feeling under the weather for a few days.

_'A cold.. It's just a cold,' _Atobe thought in relief. He told the doctor he would stay with Ryoma until the fever broke, ignoring the fact that he could catch the cold himself.

About half an hour later, as Atobe was reading War and Peace, he heard the mattress shifting slightly and looked down to see his lover's eyes half open. Atobe put the book down and took up Ryoma's hand instead.

"Monkey King," Ryoma rasped out.

Atobe ignored the dig and asked the all-important question, "Why?"

Ryoma smirked, and with his cheeks still flushed from fever, Atobe thought Ryoma looked adorable. "We never….date. Looking forward… Didn't want….break off." Ryoma replied brokenly.

Atobe affectionately ruffled Ryoma's dark locks and smiled genuinely down at the junior. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

"You're a Monkey King," was all Atobe got back.

Atobe leaned over and nuzzled Ryoma's neck. "Get some rest, Koi. I'll still be here when you wake up."

"Hai," was the drowsy answer.

Atobe sighed and sat back on the chair, one hand holding up War and Peace, the other gripping his lover's hand as the junior slept. Every so often he'd glance at Ryoma's sleeping form and couldn't help but think how perfect this was.

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Thanks for reading!


	2. Study Techniques

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

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A/N: I'm here again. Just wanted to remind you that this is basically a Snark2 Theme drabble dump. Drabbles posted to this title aren't necissarily related to each other. Also, knock knock joke belongs to Eternal Contradictions' little sister.

Disclaimer: I don't own Tennis no Ohjisama! Also, refer to chapter one for disclaimer for fic title.

Warnings: Probably OOC-ness. Established relationship. Unbetaed and written in ten minutes.

Summary: Ryoma is frustrated and Atobe employs another study method.

Snark2 Theme: #8 Study Techniques

Enjoy!

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Ryoma sighed as he flipped another page of his Science textbook. He was bored out of his mind and desperately wanted to quit reading for the day, but his finals were coming up and Tezuka's emotionless voice kept running through his head, _Yudan seizu ni ikou._

The tennis prodigy groaned and buried his face in the textbook, certain that hearing one's Buchou's voice in one's head when one was supposed to be studying wasn't healthy. He supposed that it was probably from the hours and hours he'd spent reading about trees and their leaves.

The sound of a textbook slamming shut resounded through Ryoma's room as he stood up and stretched muscles sore from hours of sitting in one position. He decided he was in dire need of a grape Ponta and made his way stiffly down the stairs to the kitchen. Just has his hand reached for the handle on the refrigerator door, the door bell rang.

Ryoma scowled and turned away from his prize to answer the door (the person on the other side kept constantly ringing the door bell and it was grating on what few nerves he had left).

The door opened and much to the surprise of Ryoma, Atobe was standing on the other side of it, smirking as if he owned the world (which he probably did, Ryoma reminded himself).

"Knock knock," Atobe said imperially, as though he were ordering the finest French wine.

Ryoma shook his head and ground his teeth. He was in no mood to indulge the idiot, but the smirk on Atobe's face said, 'Humor me, damnit!'

"…Fine. Who's there?"

"Impatient cow."

"Impat-"

"MOOOOOOO!"

Ryoma jumped visibly, scared nearly shitless by the sudden outcry. Atobe shook with laughter, doubling over in his attempt to keep it in. Ryoma scowled deeper and attempted to close the door on him, but Atobe wedged his foot between the door and the jamb, preventing Ryoma from making an escape into the house.

"Come on, Ore-sama has come to save you from your constant studying."

"Yadda," Ryoma muttered and tried to glare his hardest at his boyfriend… But apparently his Glare wasn't working as his boyfriend had his arm wrapped around Ryoma's shoulders and was already steering the younger man out of the house. Ryoma put up as much struggle as he could, but decided halfway down the lane that he didn't really want to go back to studying and would much rather spend time with his boyfriend (however annoying he might be).

Fifteen minutes found Ryoma and Atobe walking peacefully through the beautiful park they sometimes play tennis on their dates. Ryoma had given up all hope of struggle long ago and was snuggled tranquilly against Atobe's side, arm wrapped around the older man's waist as they walked.

Atobe smiled at the top of his kouhai's head and drew Ryoma closer to him, wrapping his arm securely around his shoulder. Ryoma's mother had called him asking Atobe to "come by and take my son outdoors before he goes crazy!" She told him Ryoma had been reading his Biology textbook up in his room for 5 hours and probably needed some sort of break, even if his stubborn nature wouldn't let him have one. Atobe had instantly agreed. After all, what was better than spending time with his Ryoma? And besides, he knew Ryoma was a visual learner and decided to employ a different study method to help out his lover.

"See that tree over there? What kind of tree is that?" Atobe asked, pointing to an ancient looking tree that shaded a park bench.

He grinned when Ryoma took the bait and replied, "That's a Japanese chestnut tree. Why?"

"Oh, no reason. I was just wondering. What about that tree, over there?"

"That's an Angelica tree," Ryoma answered. He stopped walking and turned to face the older man. "Why are you asking me this?"

Atobe smiled and cupped Ryoma's face in gentle hands. "Just trying to help you study for your final, Ryoma."

Atobe leaned down and gently kissed Ryoma. The younger man sighed and leaned into the soft touch before abruptly breaking away, scowling.

"Thanks, but don't. I've been studying for five hours and besides, I thought we were supposed to be on a date or something."

Atobe grinned and straightened. "Well, we could be on a date, but since you're so ungrateful for Ore-sama's help, then perhaps you should suffer through more studying, Brat."

The couple started walking again, too wrapped up in each other to notice anything else around them.

"Up yours, Monkey King."

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Thanks for reading!


	3. Theatre

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

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Disclaimer: I don't own Prince of Tennis or the title of this fic.

Warnings: Probable OOC-ness. Established relationship. Unbetaed and written in 10 minutes.

Summary: Ryoma misses his kitty and Atobe distracts him.

Author's Note: This is late for the comm., but I am posting it anyhow:P This is loosely based on my first week at college. In this fic, Atobe and Ryoma attend the same college.

Snark2 Theme # 10: Theatre

Enjoy!

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Saturday. Probably the most beautiful word in the dictionary of any college student. The sky was blue and unhindered by clouds, the wind was soft and refreshing, the temperature just right for spending the day outdoors. After setting foot outside the junior dorm, Atobe instantly made up his mind –he was going to spend the day with his Ryoma. Homework be damned.

Ryoma had not been the same since about the fourth day of class. The Ryoma Atobe loved was obnoxious, arrogant, snarky, and competitive. This new Ryoma that had emerged was quiet, mopey, and distracted. Atobe knew something wasn't right with the college freshman, but he couldn't make it right if he didn't know what was wrong in the first place. Today's goal was suddenly decided: find out what's wrong with his Ryo-chan.

Atobe found the object of his affections standing near the pond, staring off into space. He took a moment to observe Ryoma's appearance: straight-backed and proud, hands shoved into his pockets. The absence of his hat made it easier to see that the freshman seemed to be thinking about something and the absence of his usual smirk clued Atobe in that something was bothering his boyfriend.

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Well, Atobes are nothing if not determined.

Atobe had a plan. Tonight there was supposed to be a movie playing in the van Emmerick studio in one of the buildings on campus… Some movie Atobe had never heard of but was supposed to be funny. Atobe had missed Ryoma's smile these past three weeks. He just had to convince Ryoma to go with him. Atobe was sure the free candy and Gatorade would persuade him.

* * *

Atobe trudged up the three floors of stairs and knocked on his boyfriend's door. He heard Ryoma holler from inside, obviously too busy to open the door himself. Atobe found the door unlocked and entered (majestically, of course). Sure enough, Ryoma was sitting in front of his laptop, typing away.

The rich heir grinned conspiratorially and strode over to the desk and swiftly shut the freshman's laptop. He looked down to see the black-haired youth glaring at him. Oh boy, if looks could kill. Still grinning, Atobe dragged Ryoma onto his feet and ignored the prodigy's protests about his lost homework.

"Come on, Ore-sama is going to take you to a movie tonight. It's movie-on-the-wall and it's a tradition. Not to mention it's a comedy and Ore-sama thinks you need to smile more," Atobe declared as he grabbed the younger boy and dragged him to the Maytag Center, where the movie was to be played. "Besides, there's free candy. And Gatorade."

Ryoma stopped struggling and pouted. He knew his boyfriend wanted to know what was wrong with him, and Ryoma was not planning on telling anyone. It was embarrassing to admit to anyone that he was homesick; even more so that he was homesick not for his parents, but for his cat.

The freshman let Atobe steer him into the theatre and pick out proper seats; the latter's hand on the small of Ryoma's back sending warmth flowing up and down the dark-haired boy's spine. They went through the candy and beverage line and sat down.

As soon as Ryoma saw the movie title, he groaned. Of course Atobe would bring him to this.

Blades of Glory.

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AN: Yup, it's short. More soon, I have a break from college and I'll try to get another chapter done.


	4. Fireworks

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

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Disclaimer: POT and the title are not mine!

Warning: Probably OOC-ness. Established relationship. Unbetaed and written in 10 minutes

Summary: Tennis practice can be dangerous.

Author's Note: Hopefully this one will make it on time!

Snark2 Theme # 12: Fireworks

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The sun bore down on Ryoma as he dashed across the court to catch Momo's intended winner. He had been paired up with his best friend at the beginning of practice to play a practice set, which, of course, never turned out just to be practice; both boys always went all out, as was expected of them. Ryoma sat back on his heels and calculated where Momo was going to hit next. Across the court, Momo geared up for a Hadokyu. Ryoma prepared as it came flying at him and grunted, happy just to get it back over the net. His mind was wandering to the date he had with Atobe coming up when practice ended.

* * *

Momo sighed. Echizen looked totally out of it today. He barely returned Momo's shots. The spikey haired teen was just thankful that Ryoma had the sense enough to at least pay partial attention to what was going on. Momo caught the freshmen's short lob and smashed it back at him, totally unprepared for seeing Echizen get bonked on the head.

The next thing Ryoma knew, someone who sounded remarkably like his boyfriend (who shouldn't be there yet, he thought) was shouting at him to watch out, and then he saw fireworks as he fell.

* * *

"…concussion?"

"………he……out cold."

Ryoma wasn't sure where he was, but he knew he didn't want to wake up. There was no pain while he was asleep, but he could certainly feel it now. An acute throbbing in his forehead brought him quickly to reality and he grunted. He felt around and realized he was probably in the nurses office at school.

The talking in the room stopped and he felt a presence that felt suspiciously like his boyfriend hovering over him and a soft, warm hand on his forehead. He breathed in sharply from the contact and the hand left him.

"I'm sorry, Ryoma. How are you feeling?" his boyfriend asked.

Ryoma opened his eyes and the blurry image of a worried Atobe mixed with the red patches of pain swimming in front of his eyes.

"Kei…go? Why are you… here? How did I get here?" he rasped. He noticed belatedly that the second presence he sense wasn't there anymore. The nurse must've left them alone.

"I came to pick you up from practice for our date. I carried you here when Momo hit you on the head with his smash," Atobe muttered, gathering Ryoma's clammy hand in his.

"Keigo…hurts."

Atobe smiled down at him and gave him a couple painkillers and a glass of water. "Here, this should help."

Ryoma thankfully took the painkillers and water and felt his vision clearing up and his mind becoming lucid. "Thanks Kei. I'm sorry we can't go on a date tonight."

Atobe pulled Ryoma into a hug and whispered, "I was worried about you. Besides, we don't need to go on a date for me to do this."

Ryoma was about to ask him what he had up his sleeve when he felt Atobe's lips on his. Closing his eyes and allowing himself to forget everything that had happened, he saw fireworks for the second time that day.


	5. Superstition

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

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Disclaimer: I don't own POT or the title of the fic.

Warning: Probable OOC-ness, established relationship, unbetaed and done in ten minutes.

Summary: If you say good bye to a friend on a bridge, you won't see them ever again.

Author's Note: Woo. Sorry, I was busy with NaNo and finals, so I didn't update. Well, I'm updating two chapters pretty much at once, so enjoy!

Snark2 Theme # 13: Superstitions.

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"Thanks for the date, Monkey King," Ryoma murmured around his ice cream cone. Atobe couldn't imagine eating something so cold in this kind of weather, but he refrained from commenting. It had been too long since they had been able to spend time together, what with college finals coming up, so he decided he could put up with anything in order to be with the brat.

Well, almost anything.

"Good thing you're paying for everything," Ryoma said cheerfully, still licking away at the ice cream cone, which, incidentally, had been a quadruple decker, making Atobe growl. The brat could at least be thankful that Atobe is spending his money on him when he so obviously didn't deserve it!

Ryoma looked up at him then and Atobe's annoyance subsided into a rush of affection at the cocky little smirk on his boyfriend's lips and the smear of ice cream on his nose. Atobe bent forward and brushed Ryoma's ebony bangs away from his eyes and whispered, "You have ice cream on your nose." He leaned in, ignoring Ryoma's widening amber eyes, and licked the offending smear off the boy's nose and kissed him lightly on the lips, tasting the vanilla ice cream on his tongue.

He backed away after a few minutes of ravishing to assess his work; Ryoma's eyes were slightly glazed and the cocky smirk Atobe loved so much was erased clean from his lips. Instead they had fallen open slightly, looking rather appealing. Atobe forced himself to look away, knowing that Ryoma wasn't too keen on public displays of affection. Instead, he grabbed the brat's hand and pulled him along, allowing Ryoma to regain his senses. They walked along in silence, looking at the light dusting of snow covering the ground; it really was beautiful, especially in the evening where the light from the sun was glinting just right off the ground.

He glanced down as he felt an arm snake around his waist and a head on his chest. Ryoma was looking more content than he had in ages, which, frankly, relieved Atobe. It was Ryoma's last year in high school and he had been missing all his Seigaku friends terribly. Ryoma was the last one left and all the others from Seigaku had moved on to college; they hardly ever had team gatherings like they used to and Atobe could tell that it had really been getting his boyfriend down lately. Atobe had been hoping to cheer the younger man up on this date and it appears to be working. He smirked to himself and steered them onto a bridge which was on the way to a local park.

Ryoma shifted against his rich (snobby) boyfriend's side and looked at his clock. He gasped and stopped walking, nearly tripping Atobe. "Keigo, it's late! I have to go, my parents are going to flip! I was due back at home for dinner an hour ago!"

Atobe looked down at the younger man, who was looking at him with something akin to panic shining in his eyes. "Okay brat, I'll walk you home," Atobe said turned to go the opposite direction, looking slightly uncomfortable, but Ryoma stopped him.

"No! No time, I have to run!" Ryoma started to run off but Atobe's hand shot out and grasped Ryoma's wrist.

"You can't say good bye to a friend while you're standing on a bridge, brat. Don't you know? If you do that, you'll never see them again," Atobe stated with his usual elegance (and by elegance, I mean arrogance). When Ryoma calmed down enough to raise an eyebrow at him, he went on to explain, "It's an old wives tale –"

"You are trying to tell me that you believe in a superstition?" Ryoma asked incredulously. Atobe frowned at the brat's comment but inwardly reveled in the fact that he got Ryoma to stop. "That's dumb."

"I'll have you know that I would rather not take my chances," Atobe muttered, pulling Ryoma closer gently. "Especially with you."

Before Ryoma could snark at him some more, Atobe bent to cover his boyfriend's lips with his own once again, nudging Ryoma's slack mouth open to deepen the kiss. The snobby heir distinctly heard a breathy 'Keigo' and smirked as he broke the kiss. The boy was, once again, completely dazed and Atobe had to take a moment to be amazed at his own prowess before nudging Ryoma along.

"I'm walking you home, brat."

Ryoma could only nod as Atobe led the way.


	6. Winter

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

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Disclaimer: I don't own POT or the title

Warning: Probably OOC-ness, established boy/boy relationship, unbetaed, written in 10 minutes

Summary: Stuck between a hard place and.. well.. the ground. ;)

Author's Note: Yet another one… Feeling ambitious tonight.

Snark2 Theme # 14: Winter

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Ryoma sighed as he heard the rustling of a certain flip-haired heir at his door. They were both on Christmas break and has planned to go out to see a movie, but there had been a winter storm during the afternoon. So now they were stuck in the Echizen house with nothing to do. Ryoma sipped from his mug of hot cocoa (with marshmallows, of course) as he watched his boyfriend fuss with his coat and scarf until it sat just perfectly on his chest. The younger man gently rolled his eyes and got off the couch to help his pathetic boyfriend.

As he reached up to adjust Atobe's collar and murmured, "Why are you going outside, anyway. It's cold. It's icy. You'll fall on your ass," he trailed off, thinking. "On second thought, I'll come out with you. I want to see that." With a smirk, Ryoma handed Atobe his gloves and scrounged around, trying to find his own winter gear. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Atobe holding his coat, scarf, gloves and hat. He smiled his thanks and allowed Atobe to help him into them.

Atobe opened the door and bowed him out, making Ryoma laugh throatily. It wasn't often that the high and mighty Atobe was the one who bowed. He set one foot on the sidewalk leading to his door and almost instantaneously found himself on his bottom with no recollection of how he got there. Behind him, he heard a click of the door being closed and Atobe laughing at him. He was too shocked to scowl and retort nastily, as he would have normally done. He fought his way up to a standing position and decided to clobber his boyfriend with a snowball. He was half tempted to put a chunk of ice in the middle just to shut the Monkey King up. The snowball hit the heir square in the face and Ryoma greatly enjoyed watching him splutter and try to wipe the snow from his eyes.

Uh oh.

Atobe was now charging at him full steam, grinning evily with a much larger snowball ready to be thrown. Ryoma turned to run away, but slipped on the ice that covered everything and began to fall backwards. Atobe immediately discarded the snowball in favor of trying to help his boyfriend, but the younger man just pulled him down with him. Ryoma ended up on his back on the ice-covered snow with Atobe's weight on top of him. He winced, sure his back would have bruises from the ice.

He tried to get up but his boyfriend didn't seem to have that in mind. Their eyes met and Ryoma froze (pun intended). Ryoma wasn't sure, but he thought that maybe a 'moment' was passing between them. Atobe lowered his head torturously slowly and kissed Ryoma senseless.

Ryoma closed his eyes as he reveled in the sensations that were assaulting him; the freezing cold mixture of ice and snow underneath him, the warmth of Atobe's body hovering above him, and the intense, white-hot feeling of the kiss they were sharing. He wasn't sure, but he might've moaned 'Keigo' once or twice. Nothing made sense anymore except Atobe and his lips and the feeling of his hands roaming under his coat and –

Ryoma opened his eyes. Atobe had stopped the kiss way too soon in his opinion, but as he looked up at his boyfriend, he found that he couldn't complain; Atobe's usually perfect hair was falling messily around his face and his lips were kiss-bruised. Ryoma smirked and pulled him back down for another one.

The couple didn't get up off the frozen ground for a while.

* * *

A few hours later found Ryoma sitting in Atobe's lap in front of the fire. They had tons of warm, fuzzy blankets around them and both were shivering. Ryoma leaned back against his boyfriend's chest and listened to his mother making them her special hot chocolate and warm cinnamon bread in the kitchen. They had definitely stayed out too long, but, he mused as he felt Atobe's warm, strong arms tighten around his waist, it had been worth the colds they would both have. 

"I'm sorry," Atobe whispered into Ryoma's ear, making him shiver for reasons other than the cold.

"What are you talking about, Monkey King?"

"It's my fault you're going to have a cold. I should've gotten you inside earlier. You were against the cold ground, after all."

"Don't worry about it, Keigo," Ryoma said, turning his head slightly to show he was smiling.

Atobe smiled back and gently nibbled on the younger's ear. Ryoma had to bite his lip to stifle his moan.

"At least now I know what to get for your birthday," Atobe murmured.

A few seconds later, Ryoma blushed and Atobe laughed.


	7. Fresh Start

**Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most**

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By TG

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Disclaimer: I don't own POT or the song that I bummed the title off of.

Warning: Probable OOC-ness, boy/boy relationship(s), unbetaed and written in 10 minutes

Author's Note: Might not seem like it, but this really is AtoRyo. So please don't bombard me with reviews about it. Also, please read the additional author's note at the end.

Summary: Sometimes changes are necessary.

Snark2 Theme # 15: Fresh Starts

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Ryoma flopped angrily down onto the couch. He _hated_ it when his boyfriend dragged him to Atobe's parties. Especially ones in which alcohol was involved. His last party at Atobe Keigo's mansion had been one he wished he could forget. Unfortunately, his overly stuffy boyfriend had forbidden the use of alcohol and he couldn't forget what had happened even if he tried. And he really tried, but the image of Fuji-senpai, who was _naked_, tickling an _equally naked_ Sanada with a feather would not leave him alone for weeks. He had nightmares.

Shaking his head to dislodge any memories he had of the incident, he looked over as another weight settled itself on the couch. He expected it to be his boyfriend and he turned to chew him out, but instead he found Atobe, prissily sipping champagne from a crystal glass. The man winked.

"Yo. You're alone tonight? I thought surely Tezuka would be supervising you to prevent you consuming any alcohol," Atobe grinned from behind his glass. Ryoma merely rolled his eyes, though he couldn't help but wonder where Kunimitsu had gone.

The two sat in a comfortable silence for a while; Ryoma stared out the French doors at the swirling snow and Atobe sipped his champagne, watching the smaller man out of the corner of his eye.

About a half hour later, Ryoma glanced over toward Atobe to find the latter staring. Ryoma blushed slightly, not really understanding why, and looked away. Atobe smirked.

"I need to use the bathroom, Monkey King. I'll be back," Ryoma mumbled, glancing over at the annoying monstrosity named Keigo before walking out of the room.

It had been a nice half hour, he had to admit. When he spent time with Kunimitsu, it was usually in silence or playing tennis, but that silence and the silence that had just occurred with Atobe were different. Atobe's presence was somewhat more comfortable to him than his over-stiff and conservative boyfriend's. Ryoma shook those thoughts out of his head. He had a boyfriend, he didn't need to be thinking those thoughts about other guys, especially the Monkey King.

He turned a corner, stopped, and stared. The door across from him was gaping open, revealing a sight that felt slightly déjà vu to Ryoma. Through the door, he could see Fuji-senpai, shirtless, sitting on the lap of another man who was lying on the bed. Fuji-senpai was smiling and fiddling with a pair of glasses.

Ryoma blinked.

Those looked like Kunimitsu's glasses.

Inside the door, the man who was lying on the bed mumbled something and Ryoma froze.

No way.

The black haired man crept closer to the door, determined to prove himself wrong. He was distracted by movement inside the room as the man under Fuji-senpai sat up. Ryoma brows furrowed; the man's hair was tousled and his face was red with alcohol and his glasses were missing, but he would recognize the face of his boyfriend anywhere.

Ryoma straightened up and turned around, not caring if the two fooling around in the bedroom heard him walking back down the hallway. He wasn't angry, but he couldn't help wondering why. Alcohol was like a truth serum, right? So if Kunimi-Tezuka wanted to have sex with Fuji-senpai while drunk, did that mean he would rather be with Fuji-senpai?

He wandered around the mansion, lost in thought, not really angry but not really calm either. After taking several turns to try and get back to where the party was, he realized he was lost. He sighed. This was perfect. Not only had he discovered his boyfriend of two years cheating on him with their fellow regular, but now he was lost in Atobe's mansion and was probably going to get mocked into oblivion. So he just decided to sit down in the middle of the floor and wait for someone to discover him.

He leaned against the wall and tipped his head back against it, closing his eyes. He suddenly felt exhausted and wanted to go home. It had been a bit too much.

A few minutes later he felt a light hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly. Whoever it was must've thought he was asleep, so he kept his eyes shut. The shaking continued, but when he didn't respond, the person picked him up bridal style and soon he found himself laying on something soft. He felt fingers trailing his cheeks lightly and he abruptly felt the need to know who it was.

He opened his eyes and found himself staring into Atobe's. He expected the Monkey King to pull his hand away from Ryoma's face, but instead the rich heir kept it there, gently stroking his cheek.

"Why are you upset?" Atobe asked quietly, backing away and holding out a hand to help Ryoma up. Ryoma frowned at him and tried to turn away, but Atobe wouldn't let him. "Look, whatever happened, it doesn't matter anymore."

Ryoma stared at him and understood what the idiot was trying to imply. In the background, he could hear the countdown begin for the new year and he sat up. His hand clasped with Atobe's and a genuine smile flitted across his face as the man pulled him up.

"A fresh start, eh?" Ryoma asked, grinning.

Atobe smirked at the younger man and put an arm around Ryoma's slim shoulders. In the background, they could hear the crowd shouting 'ZERO!'

"You know, they say that whoever you are with when the countdown ends is who you'll end up with for the rest of your life," Atobe said casually. Ryoma looked at him and smirked.

"Shut up, Monkey King."

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Hey, it's totally awesome that I've gotten 5255 hits for this story. I really appreciate that people read it, but I'm a little disappointed that I've only gotten 37 reviews out of all those hits. So it would be a real confidence booster if you guys would hit the review button, even if it's just to say hi! 


	8. Squeak

**Spring Can Really Hang You ****Up**** The Most**

By TG

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_Disclaimer_: I don't own Prince of Tennis or the title of the story.

_Warning_: Established boy/boy relationship, probably OOCness, written in 10 minutes and unedited. Yup, I'm lazy.

_Author's Note_: Um hi… So… Yeah. There was no prompt for this month on the LJ comm. That I write this for, so I wasn't going to write a drabble… However a friend of mine, Crassreine, gave me a prompt to use and I figured what the hell, I might as well use that one! So… Drumroll please…..

And the prompt is………. Voice-cracking.

Without further ado, here is chapter eight, entitled Squeak.

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Enjoy…

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Ryoma and Atobe were sitting in the latter's room when _it_ happened.

Squeak.

Ryoma's golden eyes widened in surprise and across the room from him, sitting at his desk with his back facing the younger man, Atobe grunted, not looking up from his studying.

The silence continued as it had been for the past twenty minutes. Honestly, Ryoma didn't understand why Atobe insisted on him staying with him while he was studying. And on a Saturday morning, no less. They could be playing tennis instead! The only sound in the vast cavern of a room was the skritching of Atobe's pencil as he took notes on the information he read out of his college textbook. Ryoma figured the older man might as well make use of the damn thing since textbooks were so expensive. He was going to have to deal with that shit next year, so he really couldn't laugh about the obscene amounts of money Atobe shelled out because he just _had_ to have brand new textbooks.

Everything must be perfect for 'Ore-sama,' after all.

Ryoma snorted.

Ten minutes later…

Ryoma decided enough was enough. The silence was starting to mess with his head and besides, why would a healthy teenaged boy want to waste a beautiful day like today by studying? Ryoma opened his mouth to mention this to his stubborn boyfriend when-

Squeak.

The younger man's mouth snapped shut with an audible clack and Atobe swiveled around in his chair to look at him.

Liquid honey eyes the size of saucers met steel grey.

"I demand to know what that sound is. It's interrupting Ore-sama's studying," Atobe ground out.

Ryoma shook his head, his mouth opening and closing but nothing would come out. Atobe's eyes narrowed and zeroed in on Ryoma's blush.

"Wait.. Is that… That is not what I think it is, is it?" Atobe asked, getting out of his chair and coming slinking closer to where Ryoma sat on his bed.

Ryoma furiously shook his head, scooting back further on the bed.

"I think it is."

Ryoma backed up until he hit the headboard and groaned. Atobe was hovering over him and the whole situation would have been sexy if it weren't for the fact that his _voice was cracking._

Above him Atobe chuckled and leaned down so that his lips were just barely brushing Ryoma's sensitive ear.

"Your voice just squeaked," he murmured and grinned when he felt Ryoma shiver beneath him.

"I think it's cute," Atobe whispered and he allowed his tongue to ghost over the shell of the younger man's ear.

Ryoma gasped and brought Atobe's face down to kiss him and both men moaned as their tongues collided. Atobe's hand snaked under Ryoma's shirt and caressed the warm skin there before moving up to tweak at his nipples.

"Ke-igo!" Ryoma moaned, then blushed a deep shade of red. Even though it was a breathy whisper against the skin of his neck, Atobe still heard the squeak in it and couldn't help but sit back and stare rather incredulously at his partner.

Under him, Ryoma stared back in horror. Until Atobe started laughing at him. Ryoma shrank into the mattress, embarrassed, but he couldn't help but laugh too once he saw his boyfriend's face.

Well, Ryoma thought, the situation was kind of funny.

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_Author's Note_: Well, sorry Crassreine, I think I totally butchered your prompt. Lol. I'm looking forward to everyone's reviews anyway and I hope you're not too harsh on me. I'm hoping for more wonderful feedback, you've all been so kind so far! 


	9. ramune

**Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most**

By TG

_Disclaimer:_ Don't own PoT or the song name I'm using as a story title. I also don't own Ramune either. Just thought I'd throw that out there.

_Warnings:_ Established boy/boy relationship, probably OOCness, written in 10 minutes and unedited.

_Author's Note:_ Still no prompt from Snark2 on LJ, but my friend Curt gave me a wonderful one from Superbad.

_The prompt:_ Oh my God, it's in! IT'S IN!

Without further ado… Here is the newest installment of SCRHYUTM! (Kinda looks like scrotum, doesn't it? Haha… body parts.)

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**Chapter 9: Ramune**

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Sigh.

Momoshiro hung up the phone, happier than he had been five minutes ago. Ever since Ryoma had begun to date Atobe Keigo, he had spent increasingly less time with Momo until they went weeks without playing so much as a game of tennis. Of course the spiky-haired boy saw Ryoma in school and tennis, but that didn't count. They used to go to burger joints and ramen stands at least three times a week before Atobe came along to steal Momo's thunder.

Momo stayed his thoughts from going down that road. It wasn't that he liked Ryoma in that way, but it was his last year in high school and he was going to college in Tokyo. They would rarely see each other once he graduated, so he had planned on spending most of his extra time with the younger man. But nooo, stupid brat had to go and get himself a boyfriend who wouldn't share _anything._

'No, must not think negative thoughts,' Momoshiro thought to himself. 'At least I get to hang out with Ryoma this afternoon. I shouldn't complain.'

The high school senior grinned as he thought about the tennis game that would surely take place, but was brought down from his happiness as his mother called from downstairs, telling him to finish up his chores. Momoshiro sighed and got up to take out the trash, grumbling something about mothers and kangaroos.

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Four hours later found Momo in front of the Echizen household, his hand raised and curled into a fist as he rapped lightly on the door. Nanjiroh answered the door, the usual cigarette in his mouth and porn magazine in his hand, and he grinned as the old man led him inside and up the stairs toward Ryoma's room.

It had really been too long since he had been here.

Momo came out of his reverie when Nanjiroh left him at Ryoma's door, winking as he left. The spiky-haired teen's hand hovered over the doorknob, about to turn it when he heard voices inside. Curious, he pressed his ear to the wood and listened harder.

"K-Keigo!" That was Ryoma's husky voice, pleading for attention.

A strangled groan lit the air on fire and Atobe's voice teased, "Ryoma."

"S-Stop teasing me, Monkey King," Ryoma gasped, his voice hitching.

Atobe's laugh rang through the room and Momo smiled at Ryoma's huff that followed. "Just relax and it'll go in. Stop trying to force it."

At this Momoshiro blushed, thinking for the first time that perhaps he had walked in on something very private (he's a little slow, isn't he? Lol). He wanted to walk away from the situation but his curiosity was aroused and he couldn't bring himself to leave. He was here to hang out with Echizen, damnit! If they were having sex, as he suspected, he would just have to put a stop to it. He waited a little longer to make sure, though.

"Keigo, it's so tight. How the hell does it fit? I can't get it in," Ryoma's voice was now whiny and Atobe let out a frustrated sigh.

"Here, like this."

There was a small grunt and then Ryoma's cry of pain, "Ouch!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. It's kind of shocking the first time you do it, isn't it?" Atobe asked, a grin in his voice.

"Oh my God! Its in! IT'S IN!" Ryoma cried out in excitement.

Momo gasped and threw the door open forcefully; he just couldn't let Atobe continue to defile his best friend. After all, the kid was only 16 now, much too young for sex!

"Stop defiling Echizen, Atobe!" Momo screeched, fully expecting to find them laying naked on the bed, or perhaps up against a wall.

Instead, he found Atobe and Ryoma sitting calmly (well, Atobe was calm, anyway) on Ryoma's bed, holding a bottle of Ramune (1). Ryoma looked up, his eyes shining in excitement as he shoved the bottle in Momo's face, completely ignoring what Momoshiro had just shouted.

"Look Momoshiro, I got the marble in!"

Momo gaped at Ryoma like a fish, his blush extending to his ears and neck and Atobe openly laughed at him, making his blush even more fierce. Ryoma looked at him, puzzled, as if just now noticing the look on Momoshiro's face. Momo quickly lost all color in his face and passed out from shock.

Ryoma turned to Atobe, who was still laughing. "What's wrong with Momo?"

Atobe just stared at him as if he had grown three heads, so Ryoma shrugged and raised the bottle of Lychee Ramune to his lips and drank deeply.

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(1) It is widely known for the distinctive design of its bottle, often called Codd-neck bottles after the inventor, Hiram Codd. They are made of glass and sealed with a marble; the marble is held in place by the pressure of the carbon dioxide in the drink. To open the bottle, a device to push the marble inward is provided with the bottle. The marble is pushed inside the neck of the bottle where it rattles around while drinking. Two little glass nodes inside the bottle allow the drinker to hook the marble in place while drinking.

People trying Ramune for the first time sometimes find it difficult to drink, as it takes practice to learn to stop the marble from blocking the flow. Ramune is one of the modern symbols of summer in Japan and is widely consumed during warm festival days and nights. Empty bottles are usually collected for recycling at stalls where it is sold. ((from Wikipedia))

_Author's Note:_ Please leave a review! I'm sad that I don't has many people reviewing as I had before. Does that mean you don't like the one-shots anymore?


	10. Bath

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

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_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ Probable OOC-ness, established relationship. Un-betaed and written in ten minutes:)

_Author's Note:_ So this is probably going to be pretty short unless I get carried away… Please read and review, your reviews are important to me.

_Summary:_ Ryoma just wants a bath without being bothered. Is that so much to ask?

_Snark2 Theme:_ #16 Bath

Enjoy!

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All Echizen Ryoma wanted was to take a bath without being disturbed, like he used to be able to do before he went to college. He sat back in his desk chair as he tried to decipher his Organic Chemistry homework. Really, what was the point of this stuff anyway? But he couldn't afford to dink around; underneath his O-Chem homework lay his Calculus II, Physics, Advanced English Grammar, and Psychology homework that he still had yet to do.

The poor college junior groaned and let his head fall back until he was staring up at the spackled ceiling.

'They really need to get more overhead lighting in this dorm,' he thought to himself as a last ditch effort to distract himself. He _really_ didn't want to do his homework.

Just then, his cell phone rang. Glad for a real distraction this time he picked it up quickly and answered a short 'hello?' into the receiver. His mother was on the other line and he almost deflated. Almost. He had been expecting the Monkey King.

"Hi mom."

"_Hi dear, how's school doing this semester? Your father and I-" _there was a quiet grunt _"-miss hearing from you."_

"Yeah, sorry, been busy."

There was a kerfuffle on the other side of the line and his father's voice exploded in his hear, making him wince.

"_My son! Found any golden beauties to deflower yet?"_

"_Nanjiroh!" _

"_Ouch, Darling, what was that for?!"_

"_Sorry Ryoma. You know how your father is. Anyway, it's wonderful to hear your voice again. Don't hesitate to call us! You know we're always here for you."_

"Yeah mom, thanks. Bye."

Ryoma sighed as he flipped his phone shut and looked at the clock. He had only managed to waste ten minutes with that conversation. Allowing himself to groan loudly, he sincerely wished he could just take a bath right now; baths relieved the tension in his muscles and took away his worries. But all they had at college were tiny little boxy showers that took some maneuvering to get into and out of. He supposed he was just glad his room was good-sized.

The yearning to take a bath brought back memories of his life before college. He remembered how when he was a small child, his mother would bathe him and he remembered the security and love that radiated off of her at times like those. Of course, it was hard to feel either of those feelings when she was arguing with his father about something he couldn't figure out (but we all know it was probably the 'magazines' he reads hehe).

And of course his junior high days, when he collected bath salts and it was practically a hobby to take a bath in bath salts from different areas. He would get them as gifts from his family members for birthday and Christmas. Idly he wondered if he still had any left for when he came home this summer.

'Only 20 more days left of class!' He cheered silently, the beginnings of a smile appearing on his angled and handsome face.

Those memories brought back other memories; memories of high school. He had somewhat grown out of his bath salt phase, but he had a new addiction, and that was Atobe Keigo. They had begun to date in his third year in high school and he couldn't help but smirk at some of the memories of bathing with his lover came back to him; his favorite having been right after Nationals in his last year of high school.

_Ryoma lowered himself into the huge tube full of steaming water slowly, wincing slightly as his sore muscles hit the water. He slid in in front of his lover and leaned against his back against Atobe's chest, sighing as the warmth released some of the tension in his muscles. He smiled as he felt his lover's arms come around him to rest on his stomach and gently rubbed circles on his hip bones. He leaned further back into the heat of Atobe's body and rested his head on his shoulder._

"_You going to live, Brat?" Atobe asked._

"_Hmph. This is nothing. Mada mada dane, Monkey King," he snarked back._

_Ryoma could feel Atobe's grin as he leaned down, gently brushing his cheek against Ryoma's and kissed the younger man's shoulder._

That had been one of the most peaceful moments of his life. He would have despaired more, but the memory of that night gave him an idea.

Picking up the discarded cell phone he dialed a number he knew too well and waited as it rang a few times.

"Ryoma," Atobe said, sounding amused.

"Keigo," he replied with a smile. "Can I ask a favor from you?"

"Sure, Ryo-chan," Atobe teased. Ryoma growled, suddenly rather angry with the diva.

"Don't call me that!" He snapped, almost instantly regretting it when the other side of the line went silent. Ryoma signed, knowing he needed to apologize. "Okay, sorry Keigo. Listen, I'm really stressed out. Could I…" He trailed off.

"Could you?" Atobe prompted when he got no response.

"Could I come over and use your bath tub?" Ryoma asked, obviously embarrassed from the tone of his voice.

Atobe simply raised an eyebrow and agreed. He offered to send Ryoma car to pick him up but the younger man refused and said he'd rather walk. They two hung up after exchanging a few snarky comments.

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-15 minutes later-

Ryoma knocked on the door of Atobe's mansion and was mildly surprised to see that Atobe himself was answering the door. The older man smiled down at him and stepped to the side to allow him to enter, wrapping his arms around Ryoma's shoulders as he did so. He felt Ryoma instantly sag against him and decided his lover deserved some pampering.

"Come on, Ryo," he muttered quietly, steering him toward the most luxurious bathroom. "You need to relax." Atobe felt Ryoma nod against his shoulder and smiled. Poor kid. He couldn't believe how much of a workload Ryoma had taken on this semester in order to graduate in four years. The kid was double majoring in sports therapy and English, his two best subjects, and minoring in math. It was like Ryoma was trying to kill himself. Atobe shook his head as he guided Ryoma into he bath.

Ryoma looked up at him, silently asking if Atobe was going to stay with him. The latter chuckled and ruffled his hair, much to Ryoma's annoyance.

"If I stay, will you be relaxed? No? I didn't think so. I don't want you to implode from your workload, Brat," Atobe said, smirking. He saw the flicker of understanding in Ryoma's golden eyes and let his smirk relax into a small smile. "Take your time. Maybe when you get out we can order pizza and watch a cheesy movie together. Call if you need something." Ryoma simply nodded and he turned around and closed the door behind him.

His lover needed time alone and he would gladly give it to him. He'd made himself sick first semester from being too stressed and he didn't want that to happen to Ryoma again. Atobe loved him and wanted only to see him happy. He smirked to himself at the thought as he heard the bath water start up. He really missed being in college, because then he could see Ryoma almost every day since they went to the same college. Now that he had graduated, however, the younger man had taken on more of a workload and rarely got off campus to come see him. Of course, he was also busy running his business corporation and didn't make much time to see Ryoma either. And now that he had the brat in his house, naked, he found he couldn't take advantage of the situation. He was too concerned over the kid's state of mind to interrupt.

So he just smiled to himself and waited for Ryoma in the main sitting room; Ryoma knew his way there. The younger tennis player would come find him eventually and he would be waiting with a massage, a can of grape Ponta and a large pepperoni pizza, just the way Ryoma liked it. Anything to get him to keep smiling. Or smirking. Either one would be okay.

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_Author's Note:_ Please leave me a review! I always appreciate a friendly hello here and there! I am glad people stop to read my little drabble dump :) Also, thanks to those of you who have reviewed! I really appreciate the sentiment and it spurns me on! Also, I am trying to figure out if I should continue to deposit my drabbles here or not, so let me know what you think.


	11. Silk

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

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_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ Probable OOC-ness, established relationship. Un-betaed and written in ten minutes:) Also, pr0n without plot.

_Author's Note:_ Once again Snark2 failed to come up with any prompts for the last couple of months.

_Summary:_ Keigo's silk sheets just felt so good that he didn't really want to get off the bed.

_Prompt word:_ Silk

Enjoy!

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Ryoma sighed as he undressed to his boxers and flopped onto his boyfriend's bed. He reveled in the feeling of Keigo's nice silk sheets on his bare chest, trying to ignore the jolt of pleasure as his nipples brushed against the fabric as he shifted to a more comfortable spot.

Ever since Keigo had kissed him on the court after their tennis game earlier that day, his skin had become hyper-aware of everything it touched and left him rather aroused. He wished Keigo were here now to take care of the problem, but he wasn't sure that he could wait for his lover to turn up –his erection was straining and becoming rather painful, the pre-cum staining the front of his boxers.

He shifted again and groaned as his boxers scraped over the head of his cock.

'To hell with it,' he thought, yanking his boxers down and grabbing himself in a tight grip.

He moaned quietly and began to stroke himself, forgetting that this wasn't his house and Keigo or any of his housekeepers could walk in on him at any second. He sighed as he smeared the pre-cum over his cock, making it easier to fist. He sucked on two of his fingers, moaning as he fantasized about what it felt like when Keigo sucked him off.

Just as his hand started speeding up, a movement caught his eye from the shadows and his whole body jerked in surprise as none other than his lover strode toward him, his eyes darkened with lust. Ryoma blushed so hard he thought he would explode.

"Finish," Atobe rasped. Ryoma gaped at him. He couldn't help it, they'd never done this type of thing before –usually it was straight sex, no kinks. "Finish."

Ryoma sucked in a breath, a little embarrassed to be caught masturbating and asked to finish himself, but soon he was lost in the pleasure as his own hand stroked him to completion. The white hot pleasure faded and was quickly replaced with Keigo's lips on his pulse.

Embarrassing as it was, he could get used to this kind of response. But only if Keigo's silk sheets were involved.

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_Author's Note:_ Sorry about the shortness. I got impatient. If you think this should be rated M rather than T, let me know, but since I wasn't explicit, I'm leaving it at T.


	12. It's Burning!

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

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_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ Probable OOC-ness, established relationship. Un-betaed and written in ten minutes:)

_Author's Note:_ About time that I supply you with another drabble. Sorry for the wait… But no one from the Snark2 community seems to have updated any prompt words in a couple of months… So I asked a friend, Ashes, to give me some.

_Summary:_ Ryoma and chemistry do not mix.

_Theme: _"It burns, it burns! Oh my God, it burns!"

Enjoy!

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Ryoma was soooo bored. Seriously. He had already taken chemistry in high school, so why did this stupid college make him do it again? Just because he'd been lazy and hadn't done his homework… Honestly. A C in a class as hard and pointless as chemistry was still acceptable, right?

Wrong.

He didn't really understand why he needed it anyway. It wasn't like he was going to be a rocket scientist or a pharmaceutical..thing..or anything. All he wanted to do was play tennis. For that matter, why did he even need college? He could just get up, walk out, and never come back again.

Except his mother would murder him. And his father would just point and laugh as he was mercilessly slaughtered. Yeah. That was less than ideal. His mother's voice popped into his mind, ranting on why smart boys like him needed a college education nowadays, blah blah blah…

Ryoma had long since developed the ability to tune people out, and voices in his mind were no exception.

In the background of his thoughts, his chemistry professor, Dr. Gosho, rambled on about moles. Like Ryoma freaking cared.

The ebony haired teenager sighed and resisted the urge to fold his arms under his head on the desk and snooze, like he did in English all through junior and high school. In order to keep himself awake through the class, which had another two hours to go, he entertained images of his boyfriend from his last visit.

The last time Ryoma had seen Keigo was a week ago. They had gone on a date at Keigo's favorite (and consequently, the most expensive) restaurant in the area. They so rarely got chances to see each other now that they were both in different colleges and were so busy with school work and tennis, so it had been nice to be able to spend time with Keigo.

Back in reality, there was a collective smattering of books being opened and Ryoma hurriedly grabbed his oversized textbook from his backpack and decided it would be better if he tuned in rather than fantasized about where his date had gone from dinner.

'Oh shit, must think of something else… Ah! Imagine Karupin watching me and Keigo do that thing he always likes to do…' Ryoma thought. That had been a close one. But to keep his mind from wandering to the..ahem..nightly activities in which he and his boyfriend had engaged, he turned full focus on his professor.

"Alright, does everyone understand? If you are to get burned, proceed to the washing station in the back left corner. Now get to work!"

Ryoma's usual lab partner glanced over at him and motioned for him to join. Ryoma signed at the inconvenience of having to relocate but complied. He had learned since moving away from home that people did _not_ enjoy complainers.

"So," Ryoma's partner said jovially once he had sat down. "Did you get any of what the Old Bat said? I was totally spacing."

Ryoma groaned. This was going to be a long lab.

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Yup. About fifteen minutes later, Ryoma was sure this was the worst lab he had done so far. They were making peanut brittle. One would assume it wouldn't be so hard to follow the simple instructions their professor had given them, but of course, Ryoma could never make things simple for anyone. Ever.

"No, you have to keep stirring for five more minutes!"

"I'm pretty sure that it's already been ten minutes," Ryoma replied, sneaking a glance at what everyone else was doing. "I think we're supposed to let it sit for a while."

"Well, might as well try," Ryoma's partner, Michio, mumbled as he set his glass stirring rod down on the black counter top. "How long do you think it needs to sit?"

"I have no idea," Ryoma muttered. "I guess –"

"Okay, your peanut brittle should be done by now. If you have done it correctly, it will be cool enough to eat. Go ahead and try!"

Ryoma and Michio glanced at each other, fearful for their own stomachs. The brittle in their large glass measuring tube was still bubbling, even though it had been off the Bunson burner for a while now.

"Be my guest," Michio said, grinning lopsidedly. Ryoma glared at him and touched the pad of his forefinger to the tube to make sure it wasn't still hot and Michio did as well. He didn't want to burn himself.

Once the tube's coolness was established, Ryoma dumped it out on a padding of paper towels, like everyone else was doing, and broke off a piece. Without further ado, he popped it into his mouth and began to chew.

Ryoma's eyes widened.

Ryoma coughed.

Ryoma sputtered.

Michio raised his hand to whack at Ryoma's back.

Ryoma's eyes filled with tears.

"IT'S BURNING, IT'S BURNING! OH MY GOD, IT'S BURNING!"

The entire class turned from their peanut brittle to stare at Ryoma as the tears leaked from his eyes. He grabbed the nearest bottle of digestible liquid he could find and downed it in one gulp. The stuff tasted _nasty. _He would be surprised if he could eat again; surely the taste buds had been singed off his tongue.

He looked up and finally noticed the staring. Even his professor was staring in concern. He made a weak attempt at laughing and scratched an imaginary itch on the back of his head.

"Um... Sorry, that stuff was pretty vile."

"You didn't follow my instructions, did you," the teacher deadpanned, not really asking a question but making a statement.

Ryoma shook his head and fought the urge to giggle nervously. The bell rang just then, signaling the end of his three hour chemistry torture session. Using the distraction, he packed his backpack as quickly as possible and left amidst the confusion of clean up.

That had been so embarrassing.

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"So that's why you don't want to go out tonight!" Keigo laughed as he popped a movie in one of the many entertainment centers his mansion had to offer.

Ryoma grumbled and shoved the popcorn bowl back into his lover's lap.

"Aw, don't want any delicious, buttery goodness?" Keigo teased, dangling a kernel in his boyfriend's face.

Ryoma glared and pressed play.

Keigo was _so_ going to regret this.

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_Author's Note_: Done!

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Trumpet Geek © November 2008


	13. Cluster fuck

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

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_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ Probable OOC-ness, established relationship. Un-betaed and written in ten minutes:)

_Author's Note:_ Hi all. I have yet another very short chapter for you. Emphasis on the word **short**. Eternal Contradiction and I were talking about one of her classes and this word came up, so… I HAD to write about it :D

_Summary:_ Ryoma attempts to explain to some choice people a new word.

_Theme: _Cluster fuck

Enjoy!

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"What the hell did you just say to me, brat?" Keigo asked, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline.

"Ochibi, how could you say something like that to Atobe!" Eiji exclaimed, a look of comic horror coming over his face.

Ryoma wanted to face palm. Certain choice friends still did not know about his and Keigo's relationship yet, even though they were in college. Some (like Eiji) were just too naïve to understand the nature of their relationship. Sometimes he really regretted their little once-a-semester get togethers. Like right now.

"What? All I said was that my classes this semester are cluster fucked. What's so wrong with saying that?" Ryoma asked, exasperated with his friends. Fuji and Inui chuckled together from the far corner of the sushi house. Ryoma ignored them.

Eiji looked appalled that his Ochibi would even ask such a question. In fact, he looked like he was about to say something he might regret (like he often does), so Oishi, being the responsible 'doubles partner' that he was, jumped in before that could happen.

"Uh, what Eiji means to ask is… Well, what does it mean?"

Ryoma stared at Oishi for a moment, and then laughed. Now he understood. He felt Keigo's warmth pressing into his side and felt him shaking with laughter, too.

"You guys. Cluster fucked means crowded. A chaotic mess. It's also a military term for friendly fire. What did you _think_ it meant?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Oishi spluttered and turned red. Eiji choked. Fuji chuckled. Tezuka calmly took a sip of his tea. Keigo nudged his back and smirked suggestively at him.

Ryoma's face instantly caught fire at the implications.

"Never mind! I don't want to know!"

Keigo waggled his eyebrows at him. "Are you sure? Because I could probably –"

"No!"

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Author's Note: 'Nother chapter… Hope you enjoyed!

And yes, cluster fuck really does mean that… go Wikipedia it!

Trumpet Geek © November 2008


	14. Sunrise

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

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_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ Probable OOC-ness, established relationship. Un-betaed and written in ten minutes:)

_Author's Note:_ 'Nother short drabble. Sorry, but some of the ideas in my head are better left short instead of trying to stretch them out. It's a double update! Almost a triple.. I EXPECT REVIEWS! :)

_Summary:_ Enjoying the sunrise with ones you love can really be a chore.

_Theme: _Sunrise

Enjoy!

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Ryoma rolled his eyes and stared up at the heavens as if asking God why He had to grace him with such a _flouncy_ boyfriend.

Behind him, a high whine emerged from his lover's mouth. "Ryooomaaa… Why are we doing this again? I could have gotten us a driver to take us up here if that's what you wanted to do."

Ryoma sighed. He should have known his date idea would backfire on him. Atobes do tend to make thing difficult for everyone involved. And it was rather early. He would let it slide for now.

He grabbed Keigo's hand and yanked, grinning evilly when he heard a quiet curse and stumbling. "Come on, Keigo. We're almost there, anyway."

"Fine, fine," the older man replied, stifling a yawn behind his free hand. They climbed over a random rock laying in the pathway and struggled through a couple of trees before they arrived at the spot Ryoma had planned out.

"See? We're here," Ryoma mumbled, dropping his backpack unceremoniously to the ground and plopping down on a log. Keigo stood, gaping. They had arrived at the top of a hill overlooking the city. It looked beautiful, with all the city lights still on and the yellow and pink colors of the impending sunrise. "Keigo, sit down. It's still another five minutes to sunrise," he said, checking his watch.

Ryoma pulled out a blanket and spread it out over the log for Keigo to sit on, figuring his prissy boyfriend would appreciate it. As the older man was sitting, Ryoma pulled out a can of strawberry flavored Ponta for Keigo and a grape flavored can for himself. He stuck a straw through the mouth of Keigo's –just the way he liked it– and handed it to him just as the first rays of sunlight spread over the city.

Keigo looked over at him. "You planned all this? For us?"

"Yeah," Ryoma said, smiling. "Do you like it?"

"Ryoma… You know that I like spending time with you, whatever we do. But why a sunrise?"

"They say that watching a sunrise with the ones you love is one of the highlights of your life. Something about being magical," Ryoma said, shrugging.

Keigo stared at him for a moment. "Are you saying that… Are you telling me that you _love_ me?"

"Yeah, I think I am. Now watch the sunrise, idiot, before you miss it," he said, looking at Keigo from the corner of his eye. The older man watched him for a moment more before turning to watch the sunrise.

Not a minute later, gold and pink exploded across the horizon and reflected off the windows of the corporate office buildings below.

"You know what?" Keigo asked quietly, not taking his eyes off the natural beauty in front of him.

"What?"

"I think I love you, too."

'Hm,' Ryoma thought as his lips met Keigo's, 'at least Keigo isn't whining anymore.'

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Author's Note: I get lots of alerts and faves, but no reviews. So it would be TOTALLY awesome if you could **review** :)

TG © November 2008


	15. Love On His Arms

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

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_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ Probable OOC-ness, established relationship. Un-betaed and written in ten minutes:)

_Author's Note:_ I'm crankin' 'em out like crazy! Blame NaNoWriMo.

_Summary:_ Ryoma explains that the word 'love' on his arm has nothing to do with tennis.

_Theme: _Suicide

Enjoy!

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It was a warm day in early spring; a lot of students had abandoned their winter coats and even had their sweatshirt sleeves rolled up to cool off in the abnormal warmth of the day. It was 3:50 in the afternoon and most students were on their way back to their respective dorms after their last class of the day.

Most sports teams were beginning practice in ten minutes, but the tennis team had a day off. Ryoma was very thankful because today he had pen ink all over his forearm and didn't want the sweat he would have worked up to smear it during tennis practice. He had, after all, spent an hour penning 'Love' on his arm that morning. He had even woken up extra early to do it! But it was all for a good cause.

He sighed and walked out the door of his dorm. His thoughts ran back to the roommate he had lived with last year, when he was a freshman. His name had been Jon; his parents were both Japanese-Americans and they had sent him to school in Tokyo to learn more about his culture. They had immediately become friends because of everything they'd had in common; they were both from America, both loved cats, and most important of all, both played on the tennis team at college.

The year had gone by great, Ryoma recalled. The off-season passed by quickly first semester. He and Jon had gone lifting and running together a lot, and Jon didn't even mind that Ryoma was gay and had his boyfriend over occasionally, as long as they didn't make out in front of him. That had caused Keigo to go off on him about how Atobes were above public displays of affection. Ryoma rolled his eyes at the memory.

Then that night had changed everything forever…

_Ryoma hit the ping pong ball again, firing it back at his opponent like a missile. Sado dodged and the ping pong ball got lodged in the glass window behind him. His mouth fell open as Ryoma twirled the paddle in his hands._

"_What the hell are you?" Sado yelled, pointing his paddle at Ryoma melodramatically. Ryoma grinned at him and put the paddle on the table, signifying the end of the game. Sado, still staring at the younger student in shock, did the same. Ryoma smirked at him and held out his hand, awaiting the can of Ponta the two had bet on. Sado stalked to the vending machine and shoved his change in and angrily pushed the button for grape Ponta. He handed it to Ryoma and the younger man grinned, guzzling the soda in one go and crushing the can in his hand._

"_I better go… The off-season ended yesterday and now we have a bedtime," Ryoma said, making a face that suggested what he thought about his 'bedtime.' Sado laughed and patted him on the shoulder._

"'_Kay dude… Sweet dreams!" He shouted, running off before Ryoma had the chance to smack him._

_Ryoma simply rolled his eyes and climbed the stairs to his room. He fished out the keys from his pocket and unlocked the door, which opened with a creek and slammed shut. He turned on the lights…_

_And almost threw up._

_There was blood everywhere, all over Jon's bed and the floor and wall next to his bed. And there was a trail of it on the floor. Sickened, he followed the trail and found Jon propped up in the corner of their shared walk-in closet, his eyes open and glassy. Jon's blood was all over his clothes._

_His mind was in overdrive as the adrenaline coursed through his body. He grabbed the phone, called 911 and told them what had happened. Next he called his tennis coach and told him what had happened. And third… He called Keigo._

"_Hello?"_

"_Keigo? It's me."_

"_Ryoma? You sound upset."_

"_I am. Could you… Could you please come to my dorm?"_

"_Yeah, sure. I'll be there in two."_

_As Ryoma hung up the phone, he could feel his adrenaline rush dying down. The smell of blood in the room was making him feel dizzy and faint, so he went in the hallway and sat down, no longer able to handle it. Not a minute later, the paramedics showed up and moved Jon's lifeless body to the body bag on the stretcher. Keigo and Ryoma's tennis coach arrived at the same time. After a half hour, Sado wandered up and all four had sat out in the hallway, waiting for the paramedics to clean up the scene._

_For Ryoma, it wouldn't matter. Every time he would walk into that room, he would always see the blood, fresh in his mind._

Ryoma frowned at the ground; of course he would remember today. The reason they didn't have practice today was because it was the one year anniversary of Jon's death, and the team had decided unanimously to respect his memory by not having practice. Ryoma glanced down at his forearm, bared because of the sweatshirt that was pushed up to his elbow, to make sure the word 'Love' was not smudged. That was in memory of Jon, too.

Just then he bumped into one of the freshmen tennis players, who fell back from the impact.

"Sorry," Ryoma muttered, sticking out his right hand to pull the kid up. He thought his name was Michiro, but he wasn't sure. He was always bad with names.

"S'okay, Echizen," Michiro replied, dusting himself off. He glanced at Ryoma's right arm, noticing 'Love' for the first time. "What's that?"

"Oh, this? Everyone who knew Jon Ishida wrote the word 'Love' on their arms today. It's a parody of some organization that raises awareness about suicide and self-harm, or something," Ryoma said.

"Oh, him? Wasn't he the guy who killed himself last year? I didn't know you knew him."

"Yeah. He was on the tennis team last year. And he was my roommate."

Michiro's eyes widened and Ryoma walked on, not really wanting to answer the questions he knew would come. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped on some crunchy looking leaves as he walked across campus to Keigo's dorm. Sado lived in that dorm too.

Ryoma was thankful he had such good friends.

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_Author's Note:_ The organization I'm talking about is a non-profit organization called To Write Love On Her Arms. It's basically there to support people recovering from attempted suicide and self-harm, including but not limited to cutting, eating disorders, and drug abuse. It's for people who have gone through depression and self-harm and people who support their recovery. I've had four people I know kill themselves and I think this group is doing awesome work.

TG copyright November 2008


	16. Rant

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

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_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ Probable OOC-ness, established relationship. Un-betaed and written in ten minutes:)

_Author's Note:_ Yes, you saw right. ANOTHER chapter. :D

_Summary:_ Ryoma ranting about how hard life is.

_Theme: _NaNoWriMo (a fitting theme)

Enjoy!

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Ryoma wanted to cry.

For real.

Almost a month ago, his high school decided unanimously (well, the _teachers_ decided unanimously) that it would be _fun _to do a miniature NaNoWriMo.

Yeah, fun.

The teachers decided to set a goal of thirty thousand words.

Ryoma _really_ hated it when teachers just assume you have all this free time to write thirty thousand words _extra _from all the papers and homework they assign.

He kind of wished he had followed Keigo to _his_ high school instead of choosing this one. Well, more like this high school recruited him because of his background with English.

Sometimes, he really despised his stint in America.

Stupid father. It was all his fault.

Incidentally, that reminded him of the tennis date he had with Keigo. He glanced at his watch and gaped. He was late!

He shut his laptop with a clack and grabbed his jacket and racquet bag and headed out the door.

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Ryoma found Keigo at the courts, tapping his foot and staring at his watch. He looked pissed.

Ooops.

"Keigo! I'm here. Sorry I'm late," Ryoma said, trying to catch his breath.

He'd run all the way there.

"Ryoma. It's okay, Ore-sama forgives you. But only this once!" Keigo said, flicking the hair out of his eyes.

Ryoma wanted to smack him.

"Whatever. Just play me," Ryoma smirked.

Keigo smirked back and tossed the ball.

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"I can't believe I lost," Ryoma muttered after two hours of play.

He sat down hard on the bench and guzzled his grape Ponta.

Keigo threw a towel at him, which hit him in the face. "Had a bad day?"

Ryoma glanced at him from under the towel. "You could say that."

"…Well, you want to talk about it or are you just going to sit there, like an idiot?"

Ryoma glared.

"It all started when I was born. Stupid father. Stupid American background. I definitely chose the wrong high school to enter. Why the hell did I ever bother to learn English, anyway? And oh my God. My high school decided without asking any of the students that we are all going to do a miniature novel for National Novel Writing Month. I have to write thirty fucking thousand words and… Oh my God. I was late, so I hurried out and… Fuck!" Ryoma shouted, jumping off the bench.

"What?! What did you do?" Keigo asked, concerned about his boyfriend's reaction.

Ryoma sat down again, looking completely dejected. "I closed my laptop without saving what I wrote. I just lost five thousand words."

"That's not so bad, you can make that up in no time if you hurry."

"No. You don't understand. The end of the month is tomorrow. Those were the last five thousand words I needed to be finished."

Ryoma wanted to cry. Again.

Man. His life sucks right about now.

Keigo gave him a kiss and Ryoma smiled.

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_Author's Note:_ Well... That made no sense. But who the hell cares!

TG © November 2008


	17. Value of Love

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

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_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ Probable OOC-ness, established relationship. Un-betaed and written in ten minutes:)

_Author's Note:_ Mhm, I'm still alive. It's been… A busy year. A lot's happened and it's given me a lot to write about. So Ima crank 'em out during NaNo this year, I'm sure.

_Summary:_ What is the value of love, anyway?

_Theme: _Love

Enjoy!

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Ryoma knew that Keigo's family life was not always the way he portrayed it to be. The Atobes might be rich and have an extensive reach in both business and politics, and they might paint themselves to be the typical perfectly happy family, but that was not reality. Keigo was raised to construct masks so that he would be able to control his emotions and along the way he had lost something precious to him. Something that he had found again in Ryoma. His belief in love. Ryoma had grown up with his mother and father as an example of what love should be. They were a great example…as long as his baka oyaji behaved himself. But he'd never been afraid to show his emotions and he'd never questioned his love for his friends and his parents. Never questioned his parents' love for each other. Keigo did not have that particular luxury.

Ryoma had been around Keigo's family long enough to notice the subtle (and not so subtle) differences between his parents and Keigo's. When Ryoma's parents smiled at each other, the corners of their eyes crinkled and laughter lines bracketed their lips. When Keigo's parents smiled, it didn't reach their eyes and it always looked stiff and uncomfortable on their faces. When Ryoma's parents touched each other, it was always soft and gentle; more like a caress. Keigo's parents barely looked at each other, let alone touched each other. Not even a whisper of cloth against bare fingertips. Keigo's parents never dined together, never went to any of Keigo's tennis matches, never asked him how school was and barely spoke to him.

Keigo had never showed the strain of his relationship with his parents in public. For the longest time, it hadn't even bothered Keigo. But Ryoma knew that the more time he spent at the Echizen household, the more he realized that his family was lacking. Not lacking in wealth or prestige, but lacking in emotions. Lacking in love.

Ryoma rolled his eyes. As cliché as that statement was, it was also the truth. And no matter how much he hid it, Ryoma knew it bothered him. They'd been dating for four years already and were old enough to know their own feelings for each other, but Ryoma sensed a hesitance in Keigo's "I love you" that hadn't been there before. But Ryoma knew from experience that he couldn't push his lover into talking about anything; Keigo had to come to him. So, Ryoma would sit back and wait. Whenever Keigo wanted to start bitching, he knew who to call.

Ryoma cut off his inner monologue and smirked, swaying from side to side to stay agile as he waited for Momo to serve. If he didn't stay alert to the game, he'd end up losing and owing Momo a week's worth of burgers, and he didn't think his wallet could possibly survive that.

Ryoma paused in shoving his racquet back into his bag. His cell phone was going off, and it was the ringtone he had set for Keigo. He shoved his hand into the side pocket of his bag and rummaged around before his sweaty fingers finally closed around the jangling phone.

"Keigo," Ryoma murmured into the receiver, thankful that Momo had gone on home after his defeat.

"_Ryoma. I was wondering if… Maybe you could come over tonight. I need to talk to someone,"_ the tinny voice on the other end said. Uncertainty pervaded Keigo's voice and Ryoma felt a smile curve his lips.

"Of course I can. Let me just shower and change and I'll be right over." Ryoma's finger hovered over the 'end call' button but Keigo's voice stopped him.

"_Ryoma… Thank you."_

Ryoma smirked and ended the call, shoving the phone in the pocket of his shorts and shouldering his tennis bag. Keigo thanking him was as good as any "I love you," and if he wanted to get to Keigo's in time for dinner, he would have to hurry.

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_Author's Note:_ Hm…

TG © November 2009


	18. Rain

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ Probable OOC-ness, established relationship. Un-betaed and written in ten minutes:)

_Author's Note:_ Noticed it's been ages since I last updated this… And I'm bored, so here we are :) Also, my town is having this very issue, so I figured I could write about it.

_Summary:_ When it rains, it pours.

_Theme:_ Hope

Enjoy!

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Ryoma's breath ghosted on the glass of his patio door as he stared out into the rain. He could barely see his backyard, let alone his neighbor's house. He wished it would quit; it had been raining for four days straight. Ryoma drew a tennis ball in the fog from his breath and turned away from the window, frustrated. Instead of playing tennis, he had been stuck inside, helping his family bail water out of their basement. Ryoma thought they may as well give up, because not only were basements flooded around town, so were the streets, so no matter how much water they were able to pump out of their basement, it was just going to continue to seep in.

Everything they had kept in their basement was already ruined, including some of his and his father's tapes of tennis matches, as well as old newspaper clippings and ribbons Ryoma had won at competitions. He had fairly given up hope on salvaging anything that had been down there.

Sometimes he hated his parents for moving him back to America to attend college.

Ryoma made his way through the kitchen and into the living room, where he flumped down, exhausted, into the couch. It was almost 8pm and this was the first time he had sat down to rest all day, and tomorrow he had to sandbag the water treatment plant with his tennis team, so there was little rest for the weary.

Ryoma sighed and opened his laptop; 8pm was the time he normally called Keigo. It was fifteen hours difference between him and his boyfriend, so even though it was 5am Keigo's time, he was usually up because he had tennis practice at 6:30.

Ryoma clicked on Skype and saw that Keigo was on, so he video called him.

"Hey squirt," Keigo's tinny voice said loftily. His tone became more concerned as he inspected his lover's features. "God Ryoma, are you all right? You look exhausted!"

"Keigo," Ryoma said, smiling a little. "It's nothing you need to worry abou –" He was interrupted by his cousin yelling for him.

"Ryoma! When you're done, your parents need you in the basement! The pump's broken!"

Atobe stared hard at Ryoma, who sighed, knowing he couldn't get away with brushing this off. "It's been raining a lot here," he explained. "Our basement is flooded and we've spent all day trying to pump the water out. The whole town is like this." Ryoma shrugged helplessly, not knowing what else to do. Quieter, "All of my tennis tapes and ribbons are ruined."

"Oh Ryoma, that's awful," Atobe murmured.

"Yeah. . .but it's okay, because it's all just stuff. You know?" Ryoma smiled at his boyfriend, feeling better about the whole situation. Atobe smirked back, and Ryoma realized that that had been his intention all along.

"Keigo. I. . .miss you," Ryoma muttered lamely. He had wanted to say a different four letter word, beginning with L, but, as he looked into Atobe's knowing face, he realized he didn't need to say it. His lover could hear it in his words.

"I miss you too, Ryoma. I miss you too."

Ryoma smiled.

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TG © June 2010


	19. Pain

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ Probable OOC-ness, established relationship. Un-betaed and written in ten minutes:)

_Author's Note:_ Don't really want to do my senior seminar paper, so I'm doing this instead. I bet you all are happy :)

_Summary:_ You risk your own pain for the ones you love.

_Theme: _Pain

Enjoy!

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Ryoma stared at the bench for a full five minutes before he sat down on it. He bent forward, elbows braced on his knees and hands dangling between his legs as he stared at the rain pattering on the ground in front of him. He could feel the wetness from the wooden bench soaking his jeans and he'd forgotten his umbrella at home, but he just couldn't give a flying fuck. Not anymore.

He closed his eyes and listened to the wind whistle through the bare branches and the rain's soft smattering sound as it hit the mud and soaked into the wet ground. If he tried, he could almost pretend he was somewhere else, some_one_ else. He hated himself now more than he ever had in his entire life.

The rain was freezing cold, but that was to be expected. It was late October, after all. Ryoma knew he'd probably catch pneumonia in only a t-shirt and jeans, but it was possibly the least he deserved after what he'd just done. One of the worst sins…

He'd always been taught that lying to someone he loves is one of the worst things he could do to them. Well, he'd just destroyed his lover by lying and he knew that no matter what, Keigo wouldn't take him back. The look in the older male's eyes told him all he needed to know: pain, anger, confusion, desperation. He hated himself because, no matter what he did, even if he apologized, he would never forget the pain he had caused Keigo. He didn't think he deserved to be forgiven. He thought he'd been stronger than this.

Ryoma blinked.

_Atobe-san closed the door behind herself and turned to face Ryoma, her stern face set in a picture of debonair defiance._

"_I don't care how much my son means to you, but you need to quit this little experimental charade right now. Keigo has a duty to uphold to the Atobe family and he cannot fulfill it with you standing in the way," she muttered coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. Her formal dress rustled in the silence of the kitchen. Ryoma knew there was a party going on outside the doors just a few feet away but it seemed like he and Atobe-san were the only two people in the entire mansion. "Do you understand me, you little peasant? You are to break off whatever this is with my son and move on with your wretched life."_

_Her voice didn't need to raise above a conversational tone for Ryoma to feel the full effects of what she was getting at._

"_You can't break us up, Atobe-san. Keigo loves me and I love him. Even if he were to 'fulfill his duty,' he would never be happy."_

"_I don't care if he's happy or not!" Atobe-san said angrily. "If you do not call the whole disgusting thing off now, tonight, then I will make sure he stays miserable for the rest of his life! Keigo's happiness means nothing to me as long as he marries, has children and runs the family business."_

_Ryoma stepped back in shock. "Why would you make your own son's life miserable on purpose?" He didn't understand. Weren't parents meant to love their children unconditionally?_

_But then he supposed that not everyone had parents who could accept their only son being gay with smiles on their faces like he had._

_He glanced around the kitchen to stall for time, but he couldn't come up with any ways out of this. He looked back toward Atobe-san to find her smirking. His shoulders sagged and he blew out a breath._

"_Fine," Ryoma murmured. He didn't wait to see the triumphant look on Atobe-san's face before he turned sharply on his heel and strode away, banging the kitchen door shut as he left. He wanted his lover forever, but more than that, he wanted his lover's happiness forever. And he was willing to sacrifice a lot more than his love for him to give Keigo that happiness._

Ryoma blinked again and wasn't all that surprised to feel a tear sliding down his cheek. Thank God for the rain, because he really didn't want to have to explain his tear tracks when he got the energy to get up and go back home. His parents were probably worried about him, but he couldn't be assed to care. He couldn't feel much more than regret.

"_Look, Keigo… I like you, but this isn't working anymore," he'd forced himself to say, shutting the door to Keigo's room behind himself as he stepped toward his lover. Keigo looked appropriately confused and concerned. Ryoma had to look away. "I think we should break up."_

_He made the mistake of looking up at Keigo._

_Keigo's eyes killed him._

Ryoma staggered up from the bench. It had stopped raining and he had no idea how long he'd been lost in his thoughts, but he knew he should head home. He turned his cell phone on and realized that his family had tried to call him three times and…

His heart hurt. His entire chest cavity felt like it was caving in.

He flipped his phone shut and shuffled off in the direction of home, ignoring the other number. The number belonging to his boyf – _ex_-boyfriend. He had to get used to that word now, because it wasn't going to change.

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_Author's Note:_ Depressing much?

TG © November 2009, not uploaded until June 2010


	20. Life Lessons

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ The usual… Probable OOC-ness, unbetaed, written in under 10 minutes (and in this case, at 2 in the morning while watching Final Destination 2).

_Author's Note:_ Picture this scenario –It's almost midnight, and you're bored. You open up and click on the first story in your favorites list that you see. What pops up is an AtoRyo story. And BAM! Just like that, you're back in the fandom. AtoRyo has to be my second favorite pairing of all time…behind RoyEd from Fullmetal Alchemist of course! There's just something so simplistic about Atobe and Ryoma, and I just love writing them :)

_Summary:_ Atobe has never learned his lessons…

_Theme:_ Snark2 theme #4 -Resolutions

Enjoy!

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Atobes do not sulk. They are not supposed to mope, or brood or pine or pout. It was New Year's Eve, and he was at work. Too busy running his corporation to even attend his own bash. There was something ironic about that, and he knew what it was, too. Not only was he ditching his own party, he was also ditching his boyfriend, who was probably waiting for him at his own house. Or not, Atobe thought as he looked at the clock. He doubted Ryoma would wait three hours for him, whether he loved him or not. The brat probably went home, and Atobe couldn't find it in himself to blame him.

Ever since he was a young child, he was used to being on his own. His parents never came to any of his elementary school plays, or his junior high and high school tennis matches, or his college political debates. They never threw him a birthday party for his sake –it was always just another way to show off the Atobe wealth, and nothing more. His father was always at the corporation, and his mother was always left behind. If she was saddened or angered by this, she never showed it. It was against Atobe traditions to show emotion. Atobe supposed that was why she had taken up gardening –for some kind of outlet.

Atobe remembered, in his early years, his intense hatred of his father for never being around. The older he got, the more he accepted the absent behavior as normal. . . That is, until he met Echizen. Echizen's family was so completely different from his own, and the love and casual ease they had with each other turned Atobe's world upside down. And Ryoma had done it so casually that it made Atobe's head spin, even now.

Atobe sighed and twirled the pen in his fingers idly. His father had taught him that duty to tradition and upholding the values of the corporation were things that should come first in his life. It was Ryoma's tennis that tore him down, and Ryoma's love that built him back up again. He'd thought he'd learned his lessons.

He put the pen down on his desk and laughed bitterly. He'd thought he'd learned his lessons, but here he was, at work on New Year's Eve, leaving his lover alone in a mansion full of people come to celebrate the holiday. He is no better than his father was, and that realization stung. He rested his chin on his hands and stared, not blinking, reflecting on his stupidity for a few moments. It was already past midnight, but he stood, flicked on his jacket and was out the door anyway. It was already past midnight, but maybe he could still salvage what was left of the night, if Ryoma would let him.

He had made his mistake, and he was _damn well_ going to correct it. New Year's resolution: to never, ever, under any circumstances, put work before his family again. He _will not _become his father. Atobe's steel eyes flashed in the gloom of the night and concentrated only on getting home so he could be with his lover and remind Ryoma how very much he is loved.

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Atobe lay on his back, sweating and panting but completely sated. Beside him was the warm body of his lover, and he smiled as Ryoma turned onto his side and curled into his body. Atobe reached down to cup Ryoma's jaw, and their lips met halfway.

"Mmm, you're still not forgiven, Monkey King."

"I know. I'm sorry. I love you, Ryoma," Atobe whispered, punctuating each sentence with a fleeting kiss over cheekbone, closed eyelid, chin, and pulling up the sheets to cover their bodies. Ryoma's eyes glinted in the dark and he could guess at the smirk on his lover's lips.

"I love you too. Now budge over, you're hogging the bed."

Atobe closed his eyes, and did as requested. Another lesson learned –forgiveness.

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_A/N:_ Well, there you go. Hope that was satisfactory!

TG © January 2011


	21. Theme Park

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ The usual… Probable OOC-ness, unbetaed, written in under 10 minutes. This is also pre-relationship.

_Author's Note:_ This… I don't know. I almost want to say it's crack but who freaking knows with Atobe and Ryoma.

_Summary: _"Nya! We lost Ochibi!" "We didn't lose him, we just...misplaced him."

_Theme:_ Theme Park, as suggested by a friend

Enjoy!

* * *

"NYA! OCHIBIIII!"

"AHHH KIKUMARU-SENPAI!" Ryoma screamed as a red-headed demon slammed into him, wrapping its tentacles around his body in a glomp of massive proportions. Air supply restricted and vision dimming, Ryoma felt a slip of air escape his throat in a squeak –a last-ditch effort to save his own life before his senpai strangled him to death.

"Eiji! Echizen is turning blue!" The vice-captain exclaimed as Ryoma flailed.

'Thank god for Oishi,' Ryoma thought as he scrambled to put as much distance between him and the demon as possible. He turned around to view his attacker and was only mildly surprised to see that the tentacle monster had converted back to Kikumaru.

"Saa, Echizen. Ryuzaki-sensei told us to take today off of practice, so we're going to a theme park! You're coming, right?" Fuji grinned at him. Ryoma involuntarily took a step back in self-preservation and accidentally bumped into Inui, who pushed his glasses up further on his nose.

Uh, Fuji-senpai, I had plans . . ." Ryoma trailed off and gulped as Inui's glasses glinted unspeakable evils.

"I thought you might not want to go along. If you would rather, I need your help taste testing the next batch of penal-tea," Inui murmured.

Ryoma was cornered. He saw no way out of this that did not end in embarrassment or death, so he figured he may as well accompany his team to the theme park. He could at least have some fun there, right?

"Ah, whatever," he muttered, adjusting his cap. Momoshiro slung an arm around his shoulders and nearly floored him with his excitement. Ryoma allowed himself to be steered out of school grounds and to his house, where Oishi promptly informed him that they would all wait for him to chance.

'Smart,' Ryoma thought. They knew him well enough to know that if they'd left him alone, he'd have attempted escape. The high school freshman changed his clothes slowly, dragging his feet until he dredged up enough courage to return to the insanity waiting for him downstairs.

When he reached the bottom stair, he found chaos. Someone had given Kawamura a racquet and the high school senior was running around the Echizen's living room, shouting "DORRA! BURNING!" while Fuji, Kikumaru and Momoshiro were snickering. At least Oishi had the decency to look mildly horrified at the spectacle, and Kaidoh was valiantly trying to ignore everything. Ryoma turned his eyes to his buchou, silently pleading for a stop to the madness, but the spectacled man just shrugged and turned away. Awesome.

* * *

Twenty minutes later they had finally pried the racquet from Kawamura's hands and were on their way to the theme park. Ryoma was already wishing for a swift death to carry him away from the craziness. Too busy thinking about walking in front of a car, he accidentally bumped into someone.

"Ah, sorry," he murmured, pulling on his hat to hide his embarrassment. Ahead of him, his team continued walking, oblivious. A chuckle dragged his eyes back to the person he'd run into and he was only vaguely surprised to find it was Atobe Keigo. Of course it was Atobe, because today Fate had it out for him. He glanced at the disappearing backs of his team and decided on the lesser of two evils. "Monkey King. Want to grab a drink with me?"

Atobe raised a well-trimmed eyebrow at the request but nodded. Ryoma turned and headed toward a drink tent without checking to see if the older man was following. Hm. This might not be quite as bad as he thought it was going to be.

* * *

Somewhere in the theme park grounds. . .

"UWAH! MOMO! WE LOST OCHIBI!"

"Calm down Kikumaru-senpai. . . We didn't lose him! We just. . . Misplaced him."

". . . UWAH!"

* * *

Ryoma grinned around his ice cream cone as he watched Atobe lose for the fifteenth time in a row. "Ne, I guess duck pond isn't your thing, Monkey King."

Atobe turned around to send him a petulant glare. Ryoma held out his half-licked ice cream cone as a consolation and laughed outright at the offended look on his friend's face.

"Ore-sama will continue until he wins!" Atobe declared and turned back to pay the greedy vendor for another game. Ryoma rolled his eyes and hauled the older man away. Honestly, that game vendor was going to make his weight's worth in gold before Atobe finally won something.

"Come on, Monkey King. Let's go do something else. What's so special about winning at duck pond anyway?" Ryoma asked, tongue curling around a drip of chocolate ice cream. Atobe stared at him strangely and then muttered something about giving him the prize. Ryoma shrugged and ignored whatever madness Atobe was spouting and pointed at a shooting game. "How about that? You _can_ aim, right?"

Atobe shot him a smirk that Ryoma yearned to wipe off that handsome face. The high school senior threw down some coins and the competition was on.

* * *

"Fuji, you and Kawamura go that way. Eiji, you and Momoshiro go to the left. Inui and Kaidoh, please go to the right. Tezuka and I will look this way and then we'll all meet back here in half an hour!"

"Usu!"

* * *

"I'm glad you finally won something so you can stop bitching about it," Ryoma said, cheerfully picking at the funnel cake Atobe had bought for him. The senior glared at him, so Ryoma blew a little powdered sugar so that it landed on Atobe's dark designer jeans. When the senior tried to brush it off, it just smeared. Ryoma felt the lazer beam glare boring into his skull and had to fight to keep his face blank as he continued to pick at the cake.

"You brat. Ore-sama is definitely not giving you the prize, now." Ryoma shrugged, knowing that Atobe meant for that to be a barb. Whatever, it's not like he needed a stuffed duck to add to his room décor. "You stay here. Ore-sama is going to wash this off."

Ryoma shrugged again and turned away, not really wanting to watch the fuss Atobe was sure to make about the condition of the publish washroom he was entering. So far his afternoon-turned-evening had gone very nicely. He had never known that the Monkey King could be fun (even if he was still insufferable). It was like seeing a different side to the man, and he found himself intrigued.

Suddenly he felt warm, rough hands settle on his shoulders and he was steered toward a green tent that they had not yet explored. He looked up to see Atobe wasn't looking at him, but instead at the tent, and he was wearing quite an attractive smirk (though the freshman would NEVER tell him that).

"What are you doing, Monkey King? I'm not finished with my funnel cake!" Ryoma exclaimed as the precious cake was taken from his hands and unceremoniously dumped into a trash bin.

"I signed you up for a fun little activity," his captor –er, friend –replied. The smirk on his face was both ominous and attractive, which made it very deadly indeed. The Seigaku high school freshman groaned but didn't bother to put up a fight.

He wished he had when he realized what 'activity' Atobe had signed him up for.

* * *

"Nyah! Ochibi is not here either! What do we do, Momo!" Kikumaru wailed, tears springing to his eyes as he wriggled in desperation. Momoshiro was about to answer his senior when something caught his eye. Ignoring Kikumaru's verbal explosions, he moved closer and realized what he was looking at. His jaw dropped. Kikumaru waved a hand in front of his eyes but gave up and turned to stare in the direction his junior was staring at. His jaw dropped too.

Oishi and the rest of the regulars spotted them and the vice-captain swooped in for a scolding. "Eiji! You were supposed to meet us back there ten minutes ago! Eiji? Are you listening to me?" Oishi finally realized that Kikumaru was, in fact, not listening to him. He and the rest of the regulars turned to stare in the direction that Momoshiro and Kikumaru were staring into. Their jaws dropped.

* * *

"Oh come on, Monkey King. You're just afraid to be upstaged by someone who's younger than you!"

"You wish! Be prepared to be awed by my marvelous musculature!"

"Che, whatever. I'm going to win!"

* * *

There stood Atobe and Echizen. Both young men were glaring lazer beams out of their eyes. Both were wearing white t-shirts, and both were soaked to the bone, making those t-shirts completely see-through. Finely-chiseled chests, abs and hips were put on display for all to see.

"It looks like we have a tie!" The wet t-shirt announcer practically screamed into his microphone, trying to be heard over the gobs of hysterical fangirls.

"Oh my," Oishi said faintly.

"But the judges" –here the announcer indicated a table of young men and women –"declare that Echizen Ryoma is the winner!"

"Oishi, you have a little. . ."Fuji trailed off, but his vice-captain was not paying attention, so Fuji reached into his pocket and used a Kleenex to wipe the dribble of blood off of Oishi's nose.

"Ha! I told you I was going to be on top, Monkey King!"

It was at that point that Kaidoh fainted.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ So um… Dear friend, I hope this satisfied your request! This is surely the most cracky thing I have ever written. I'm not sure I pulled it off. . .


	22. Cooking Together

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ The usual… Probable OOC-ness, unbetaed, written in under 10 minutes. Established relationship.

_Author's Note:_ Hopefully a cute little onesy about cooking and bonding.

_Summary:_ Date-night-turned-disaster.

_Theme:_ Cooking together, as suggested by a friend.

Enjoy!

* * *

"SHIT!"

Ryoma had been lying down on the couch, completely engrossed in a tennis match between Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal when he'd smelled something odd. He'd ignored it, hoping the smell would disappear, but instead if became rather persistent. It wasn't until just now that he'd remembered he had food in the oven.

A knock sounded at his front door but he ignored it; instead he scrambled into the kitchen just as the smoke detector began to trill. Without thinking, he tore the oven door open and smoke furled into his face, making him cough miserably. The oven door burned his hands and he cursed as he fumbled for oven mitts. Even with the mitts, the pan was still super heated and he nearly dropped it in surprise. Instead, he all but threw it into the sink, ripping his mitts off and nursing his burned fingers as the blackened sludge slid sickeningly down the pan.

"Oh, gross," he groaned. More mess to clean up later, when he could actually _feel_ things.

Warm arms wrapped around his waist and Ryoma squeaked, doing a jump-spin-flail hybrid and coming around to face his assailant.

Atobe was standing in his kitchen, his hands held up in the universal sign of surrender, his eyebrow cocked up in question.

"Keigo! God, you scared the hell out of me! How did you get in?"

"Worry less about how I got in and more about your hands," his lover muttered, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice. Ryoma felt a trickle of warmth slip into his stomach and nodded, allowing his lover to guide him to the sink and turn the spray on. Lukewarm water gushed out, and large, warm hands wrapped gently around his wrists to guide his reddened fingers under the spray. He could feel his boyfriend's chest pressed to his back, hips pressed to hips, and Atobe's fingers gently rubbed his burned skin in soothing circles.

Ryoma felt himself relax a little under his lover's ministrations, and allowed himself to be lead to the kitchen table. Atobe grabbed a first aid kit and loosely wrapped his hands in clean bandages, and then left him sitting there while he cleaned up the blackened mess that used to be chicken.

"Keigo. . . I'm really sorry about dinner," Ryoma murmured after a few minutes of comfortable silence. Atobe waved the last of the smoke out the open window and turned around to face his lover, leaning against the sink. Ryoma took a moment to look at his boyfriend –sleeves rolled up to his elbows and first few buttons undone to reveal his throat, Atobe looked amazing. Granted, he usually did, but this was a different kind of amazing –the amazing usually reserved for dates with Ryoma. And there was Ryoma, with a lump of ash-that-used-to-be-chicken, sitting at the table with burned hands and in shorts and a t-shirt. Ryoma swallowed and looked down at his hands.

Atobe shuffled around and suddenly there was an elegant finger lifting his chin and forcing his eyes to meet his lover's. "It's okay Ryoma, I'm not upset. I wish you hadn't hurt yourself, but I guess that can't be helped with you being the brat you are." He smirked a bit to take the sting out of his words and his hand shifted, cupping the younger man's jaw, thumb sweeping across strong cheekbone.

"Ne, Keigo. How about we try this again. . .together."

Atobe grinned and turned around, rummaging through the cabinets for more pans and ingredients. "Cooking together is more fun anyway."

When Atobe found the pan he wanted and turned around, Ryoma leaned up and kissed him, dumping a handful of flour into his hair and laughing into his lover's mouth.

Atobe dropped the pan. His head tilted a bit and his arms settled, a warm weight, around Ryoma's waist.

'Yes,' Ryoma thought as he stroked his tongue along his lover's. 'Cooking is definitely more fun together.'

He most definitely didn't mind cleaning up the mess afterward.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Hope you enjoyed this short little onesy like I enjoyed writing it!


	23. French

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ The usual… Probable OOC-ness, unbetaed, written in under 10 minutes. Established relationship.

_Author's Note:_ My friend and I were talking about Atobe and his background. I heard somewhere that he had either spent a lot of time in England as a kid or that one of his parents was English. I know that in the manga he's supposed to have blue eyes and blond hair.

_Summary:_ Things Ryoma loves.

_Theme:_ French

Enjoy!

* * *

Ryoma loved many things about his relationship with Keigo.

Ryoma loved that when Keigo's parents forced him to move out after learning that he wasn't planning on giving up his relationship with the younger man, his boyfriend had chosen a smaller apartment rather than an extravagant condo.

"_There, all moved in," Ryoma muttered, dropping the last box of Keigo's things on the sofa. His boyfriend grinned at him and swept him along on a tour of the apartment. Ryoma was surprised to find that it was quite cozy by Atobe standards –two bedrooms, one and a half bath with a living room and a kitchen. When Ryoma asked why Keigo hadn't chosen something flashier and more his style, his boyfriend had given him a strange look. Ryoma had let Keigo pick up his limp hand and place something in it, before closing his fingers around the object._

"_Ore-sama thought that perhaps you would feel more comfortable living in something like this." The weight of the key Ryoma's hand felt both fifty pounds heavier and lighter than air at the same time, and he looked up at Keigo to find him smiling warmly. "Welcome home, Ryoma."_

Ryoma loved when heated arguments between them turned into mind-melting sex on any available piece of furniture.

"_Why do you think you can run my life?" Ryoma yelled. "Don't you trust me?"_

"_Damnit Ryoma, I'm not trying to run your life! I do trust you, I just don't trust _them_!" Keigo yelled, exasperated. He ran a hand through his hair and shifted his weight, like he was about to start pacing like a caged animal. He seemed to realize what he was doing though and snorted in frustration._

"_I don't understand why you're so fucking jealous of Tezuka-buchou and Fuji-sempai. I'm just playing tennis! What do you think I'm going to do, have sex with them? I'm not going to hump just anyone who can play a good game, Keigo! _You're_ the only one I want like that! Why can't you understand?" That was as good as any confession of love, and Ryoma looked up at his boyfriend, nervous. His breath hitched at the sight. Keigo's eyes had darkened to a stormy ocean color, his lips were parted and his chest was heaving. Desire was written on every line of his face, and the sight of it set Ryoma's blood on fire._

"_You have no idea," Keigo muttered, panting and slowly stalking toward him, "how much I want to fuck you right now."_

But what Ryoma loved most of all was the way Keigo woke him up in the mornings.

_Sunlight lit a warm glow through his closed eyelids. His body was nestled in soft silk sheets and wrapped in a down comforter, his head was cradled in goose feather pillows, and there was a warm, strong arm slung low on his hips under the blankets. He knew it must be early; the only sounds came from the birds chirping out the window and the occasional car passing by. And Keigo's voice, whispering to him in French._

_He must have realized that Ryoma was awake, because the hand on his hip started to move in comforting circles and a kiss was pressed on his forehead. Ryoma smiled, but did not open his eyes. This was the routine._

"_Tu es étonnant. __Tu es beau. Tu es l'homme de mes rêves. Tu es ma vie. Tue es parfait. Oh mon dieu, je t'aime. Je t'aime. Je t'aime. Je n'ai pas des mots.__"_

_A kiss on each of his closed eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, the corners of his mouth. _

"_Donne-toi a moi."_

_Fingers moved up from his hip to cup his jaw in a hot trail that left fire racing along his nerves._

"_Offre moi ton coeur."_

_Ryoma opened his eyes then, leaning up to meet Atobe's lips in a long, hot kiss._

"_Oui."_

_

* * *

_

Author's Note: French means: You are amazing. You are beautiful. You are the man of my dreams. You are my life. You are perfect. Oh God, I love you. I love you. I love you. I don't have the words. Give yourself to me. Offer me your heart. . . Yes.

I really hope this makes sense. If there is anything that doesn't… Well, I'm going to be honest and say I probably won't change anything unless it's completely offensive hahaha.

TG © Jan 2011


	24. I'm gay! Part I

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ The usual… Probable OOC-ness, unbetaed, written in under 10 minutes. Established relationship.

_Author's Note:_ It seems I'm going prompt-crazy with this fic. But hey. At least I'm updating (like crazy).

_Summary:_ Two different scenes, same scenario, part i.

_Theme:_ "I'm gay!"

Enjoy!

* * *

The school bell rang and the hallways filled with sounds of lockers slamming, books thumping and the noisy chattering of high school students discussing their after school plans. Echizen stood alone in the sea of students, ignoring it all in favor of the contents of his locker. He pulled out books and stuffed them in his backpack and shouldered it, and then yanked out his tennis bag and shouldered _that_. He brought his hand up to shut his locker but something caught his eye, so instead he reached in and picked it up.

"Must have fallen out of my tennis bag," he mumbled, staring at the object. In the photograph were two people –one with silvery-blond hair and blue eyes, and the other with short black hair and golden eyes. The boys in the picture were smiling and shaking hands over a net, tennis racquets tucked under their arms. He turned the photo over and smiled at the elegant cursive that decorated the back of it.

_Good luck in America, Ryoma._

_7-6 (116-114). Never forget!_

_AK_

He sighed and stuffed the photo in the pocket of his jeans, careful not to bend it. Moving to Japan from America for his freshman year of middle school had not been the least bit difficult, but making the transition back to America in his first year of high school had been harder than he imagined. It was tough to leave behind friends and rivals, and even more tough to leave _him_ behind.

The sixteen year old shut his locker and made to leave, knowing he was going to be late for his skype date when several things happened at once. His cell phone jangled, which distracted him so that he didn't notice the person running down the hallway toward him. The person slammed into him, bounced off and ended up on the ground with a squeak. Echizen dropped everything he was carrying and grunted with the impact. After the dust settled, Echizen was able to see that the thing that had run into him was a girl in his class –he thought perhaps that her name was Jessica but he wasn't sure. He leaned down and offered her a hand up. The girl's friend caught up to them then –a girl he thought might be named Sheryl –and stood looking slightly embarrassed to be there.

The first girl's face turned bright red, and Echizen rolled his eyes. Great. He turned to leave, not wanting to deal with this, but a tug on his t-shirt stopped him short.

"Um, Ryoma. . . I was wondering. . . Well. . . Would you please. . . Um. . . Consider. . .—"

The girl looked like she was about ready to explode, so Echizen took pity on her. "You're asking me if I would consider going out with you?" The girl's eyes started to light up and her mouth opened –probably to let out some kind of high-pitched annoying squeal of delight –but he beat her to it. "Sorry, but no."

Her entire face fell and Echizen almost felt bad for her. Almost. "But. . . But why not?"

He stared at her for some moments, evaluating, and then said flatly, "I'm gay."

"But –!"

Echizen turned around and began to walk down the hallway, toward the school's front doors.

"And I'm in a relationship."

"Ryoma, wait –!"

"I like the milk, not the juice."

Sheryl laughed outright, and Echizen glanced back with a smirk before stepping out the doors.

"But wait!" Jessica wailed. "I don't even know what that means!"

Sheryl leaned in to whisper the meaning in her friend's ear, and Jessica's face caught on fire at the implications. And then she promptly fainted.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Another request from a friend. Part II to come.

TG (c) Jan 2011


	25. I'm gay! Part II

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ The usual… Probable OOC-ness, unbetaed, written in under 10 minutes. Established relationship.

_Author's Note:_ The second part.

_Summary:_ Two different scenes, same scenario, part ii.

_Theme:_ "I'm gay!"

Enjoy!

* * *

Atobe was seriously getting tired of all of these ridiculous fangirls clogging the tennis courts. Not only were they bothersome to him, but they were annoying the rest of the tennis club members as well, and they didn't have time for such distractions. Nationals was on the horizon, and there was a rumor of a certain black-haired, golden-eyed tennis monster coming back to watch, so Hyoutei had to be in tip-top shape this year.

The leader of the girl-gang was a girl in his year, whose name was Midori. She had long black hair, porcelain white skin and deep brown eyes the color of tree bark. Atobe supposed she would be considered beautiful, but honestly he just found her a tad bit frightening. He knew that if he felt that intimidated by her, the rest of his teammates must feel extremely uncomfortable –Shishido's nervous glances had cost him more than a few points in his practice matches.

So. The girls had to go.

Ignoring his practice partner's outraged cry, he dropped his racquet and stalked off the court toward the fem-squad of fury to sort this out once and for all. He could hear the rest of the courts fall silent as his teammates turned to stare at him with wide, concerned eyes, and the volume resonating from the fangirls increased with each step he took.

Midori stepped forward to meet him as soon as he stepped out of the gate, looking hopeful and determined. Atobe barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Why are you here, disrupting Ore-sama's practice in such a manner?" He drawled, raising a disdainful eyebrow. The girl faltered slightly at his icy tone, but recovered smoothly.

"We're here to support you, of course!" The girls behind her nodded furiously. Atobe sort of wished their heads would fall off.

"All you are doing is preventing us from practicing to our fullest. If you wish to support Hyoutei in our quest for Nationals, you would leave," he replied firmly. "Or you could go watch the girls' team. You need not spend all your time here."

The girls were looking unsure, but Midori continued. "The girls' team is good, but perhaps we simply wanted to appreciate the boys' team's superior strength and skill." Atobe stared at her for a few moments, letting the silence and the disbelieving look on his face do the talking. "Okay, so perhaps we are actually here to see one of the best high school tennis players in action."

Atobe snorted delicately and distantly wished that Echizen was here instead of America, but brushed the thought away for a later time. "Whatever your reason, it is does not matter to Ore-sama. Please leave." He turned to go back into the courts to resume his game with a very pissed off Gakuto when Midori grabbed his sleeve. He stopped short and turned a incredulous stare in her direction. The girl seemed to realize her mistake and immediately let go of his jersey, but she stood firm before him.

"Atobe-san, please go out with me."

The other girls in the fangirl gathering of doom gasped and whispered amongst themselves. Atobe ignored them all.

"No." He turned back to the courts again but the girl's desperate voice arrested his movements.

"But why? I know you do not have a girlfriend. Am I not pretty enough? Not smart enough?"

Without turning around to face her, he said clearly, "Ore-sama does not have to explain himself to you, but you're right. I don't have a girlfriend. . . because I have a boyfriend." He walked back onto the courts, picked up his racquet and ordered the club to resume practice, all while smirking at the devastated cries of his fanclub.

'Ryoma, I cannot wait until you come back.'

* * *

_Author's Note:_ The second part of my friend's request.


	26. Atobe Kingdom

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ The usual… Probable OOC-ness, unbetaed, written in under 10 minutes. Established relationship.

_Author's Note:_ Another prompt, another chapter! Crassreine, I hope this is what you had in mind!

_Summary:_

_Theme:_ "Atobe Kingdom, relating to tennis, somehow." –prompt from crassreine!

Enjoy!

* * *

Ryoma walked along the sidewalk, hands stuffed into pockets and cap jammed on his head, completely ignoring the rest of the world as he sauntered to his destination. Today was a good day. It was his and Keigo's two year anniversary, and the Monkey King had invited him out to a five-star restaurant (which Ryoma wasn't all that excited about) and then to spend the night at his house (which Ryoma was definitely excited about). Hopefully there would be some tennis in there, somewhere. Atobe would surely bitch if Ryoma suggested tennis to him, but a good game against Keigo was basically foreplay, so Ryoma knew his boyfriend wouldn't deny him.

The boy wonder smirked and picked up the pace, hoping to make it to Hyoutei in time to have a match with Shishido before practice was over. Ryoma had never played him and desperately wanted to know if he could back up his attitude with skill.

He walked through the gates and turned into the Hyoutei tennis club, and then immediately wished he hadn't. It looks like the Hyoutei players were in total chaos: Shishido was screaming at Hiyoshi, who was pissing Shishido off even more by just laughing openly in his face; Mukahi and Oshitari were making out in the bleachers and already half naked; Hiyoshi was muttering to himself about rising in the ranks and watching the events unfold; and most concernedly of all was what was going on with Jiroh and Ootori –the normally sleepy boy was currently running around the tennis courts with a handful of racquets in both hands and screaming nonsense while dressed in a bear suit, and poor Ootori, perhaps the only sane one left on the team, was following him around and trying to calm him down.

Ryoma, who had never been to a Hyoutei practice, was floored. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help staring at the spectacle before him. It was like watching a train wreck.

'Where the hell is that damn coach? Or Keigo, for that matter?' He thought, blushing and trying to ignore Mukahi's moans, which were steadily growing louder. He felt for Keigo, he really did. Especially if this is the kind of thing he has to deal with on a regular basis, on top of the other two hundred club members.

Ryoma was a no-nonsense kind of guy and didn't mind asserting his authority, even in places where his authority was really non-existent. He was about to open his mouth to scream common sense into the regulars and threaten them with a sound beating in tennis, but Mukahi's shrill whine stopped him short, making his face flame. He resolved to go off in search of someone to take care of this instead of facing the wrath of the Hyoutei regulars himself. Mukahi especially would be rather…erm…displeased at being interrupted.

Ryoma opened the chain fence gate and was about to attempt to slip past the insanity when a new sound arrested his movements.

"What are you all doing?" Someone drawled. The voice was low and quiet and very familiar, and the tone sent fire racing through Ryoma's nerves. The entire club was silenced; Shishido immediately stopped screaming, Hiyoshi stopped mumbling, Oshitari and Mukahi stopped eating each other's faces, and Jiroh stopped spazzing. They all turned almost simultaneously to see Keigo standing at the entrance to the courts, glaring, looking calmly pissed off and for all the world like the Ice King he claimed himself to be. His boyfriend continued talking, giving quiet, firm orders to the regulars and the rest, who obeyed, but Ryoma couldn't concentrate on his words.

Ryoma couldn't help it; he stared. His breath quickened, his skin tightened and felt hyper-aware, his blood tingled. He had never realized how much power his boyfriend carried –or rather, he had never willingly recognized it; there were many instances in which his boyfriend used his name and charisma to do things that "commoners" couldn't, but Ryoma had always rolled his eyes and put up with it. Now, though, he was able to appreciate the subtle warning growl in his lover's voice, the purposeful, domineering tilt to his body, the narrowed, icy gaze, and he was completely turned on.

Keigo looked up and their eyes met, and a low moan escaped his throat before he could cut it off. The gaze softened to something more tender and old and his mouth relaxed into the almost-continuously present smirk. He looked more like the Keigo Ryoma was used to seeing every day, but Ryoma knew that from that moment onward, the power his lover had radiated for those few moments would stay with him forever.

Maybe he finally understood the true concept of "Atobe Kingdom."

* * *

_Author's Notes:_ Just a note on the Atobe Kingdom bit… It's a reference to the New Prince of Tennis manga, also called Shinpuri. The newest chapter is called Atobe Kingdom and… Well, you should all go read it for yourselves! I highly recommend it for any tried and true POT fans.

To Crassreine… I sincerely hope you enjoyed this! I really wanted to write something you would enjoy, and that's why it took me a whole week to get it out hahaha.

To everyone else… Thank you for sticking with me so far! Twenty-six chapters and still going strong… I hope you all have enjoyed Spring so far!

* * *

TG (c) February 2011


	27. Grief

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ The usual… Probable OOC-ness, unbetaed, written in under 10 minutes. Established relationship.

_Author's Note: _I started writing this over a year ago and just finished it tonight. Sorry if the quality is bad, but it came from the heart, so I hope that makes up for it.

Dedicated to my grandmother (3 September 1925-11 March 2011). Rest in peace.

_Summary:_ Grief and sadness are horrible emotions, but sometimes they can bring a family closer together.

_Theme: _Grief

Enjoy!

* * *

"_Ryoma. You remember that your grandmother is in the nursing home back in New York?"_

"_Yeah. So?"_

"_Well. . . She's not doing so well, kiddo. The home called and suggested we make arrangements to see her. Your mother and I are leaving on the first flight out in the morning, and we got you a ticket, too. I know you have Nationals coming up, so it's up to you. . . But this might be the last time you'll see her."_

The heavy door closed with a resounding click, echoing down the empty hallway of the nursing home. Ryoma pressed his back to the door and shuddered out a sigh of relief. His grandmother's room was so stifling, he just couldn't handle it anymore. The more time he spent in the room with his family, listening to his grandmother's death rattle as she breathed with the help of the oxygen tank at her bedside, the more lightheaded and sick he felt. He had to get out of the room.

In contrast, the hallway was empty and cold, devoid of life. He took a moment to steady himself against the door, and then started walking. He'd been in New York for two days, been in the nursing home for a majority of the 48 hours he'd been in America, and he knew the nursing home and all of its web-like hallways like the back of his hand.

He stopped off at a vending machine and waited a few moments for his can of Ponta to pop out before continuing on down the hallway to the gardens. Having been stuck in a building that was constantly hot and smelled like sickness, regret, and death, the gardens had become Ryoma's one saving grace. He pushed on the door that lead to the garden but found it locked. That in itself was not a strange occurrence, since the nursing home housed elderly people in a variety of physical and mental conditions and wanted to make sure they did not get outside if they weren't supposed to.

Ryoma turned around to see if he could find someone to let him out when he noticed a commotion in the hallway from where he had just come. People in scrubs were shouting at each other and others were running down a corridor, carrying some kind of machinery. One of the nurses glanced up at him and did a double take.

"Ryoma! What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I was just going outside to get a breather –"

"You need to go back to your grandmother's room!"

Ryoma's world tipped sideways and his breath choked in his throat and he desperately wished for Keigo, but the next second everything was blurred and he was running down the corridor faster than he has run in a long time. He didn't bother to slow down and open the door to his grandmother's room; instead, he sped up and slammed into it with his shoulder, throwing it open wide.

He had arrived just in time to hear his grandmother's last guttural, rasping breath and the frantic preparation of the AED. Someone was talking, telling the nurses not to resuscitate and reading off the time of death, but it sounded like it was coming from under water for all the sense it made. The breath tumbled out of him in a rush and he swayed where he stood. His grandmother. . . All the time he had spent in his grandmother's room, and the moment he left to get some air, she –

Something like a sob escaped his throat. The sound caught his parents' attention and they both turned toward them, expressions of sadness changing abruptly to concern as they took him in.

"Ryoma! Your shoulder!"

For a moment he could not comprehend their concerned faces or the words spilling out of their mouths.

His shoulder?

He looked down to see it hanging awkwardly to the side, useless. Had he dislocated it? He didn't know, couldn't feel anything but stark emptiness. His mother started toward him, but he shook his head, stepping back and away from her comforting gaze. He didn't hurt, didn't want sympathy. All he wanted was to watch the bustle of the nursing home employees as they rushed here and there, calling the doctor and the funeral home director, taking curious residents back to their rooms, fetching the family glasses of water and boxes of tissues.

Eventually the Echizens were left alone –just his father and mother, both now openly weeping, and a rapidly cooling body that had once belonged to his grandmother and which now belonged to the ground.

Ryoma stayed, protected by the shadows and all but forgotten in the background, until he could no longer take the silence. His parents turned their watery eyes on him and he muttered something about making a phone call before making his escape.

The door latched behind him, echoing loudly in the barren hallway and making him flinch. Too much noise, not enough noise, he didn't know.

He reached the front door without really noticing, punched the exit number in, and stepped out into the crisp night (or was it early morning?) air. Ryoma looked around; the place that had become so familiar now seemed foreign and cold. He didn't know what to do, what to think, where to start walking, so instead he flipped his phone open and dialed the first number that came to mind.

The line began to ring, and he just stood there, back against the siding of the nursing home, listening to the comforting repetition; he almost didn't notice when the ringing stopped and a voice answered.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Ryoma, is that you?"

A breath rushed out of him and he bent his head to the phone. "Keigo."

"Ryoma, is everything okay? It's," a pause, "two in the morning there."

"I don't know," he whispered, wincing at the dazed quality of his voice. Ryoma cleared his throat, an this time his voice came out stronger. "My grandmother, she –"

The feelings that had been absent in his grandmother's room now came rushing up like vomit, choking him into silent, heaving, body-rocking sobs. Keigo was thankfully silent throughout Ryoma's display of grief, only offering reassurance through the sounds of his soft breathing or wordless murmurs of comfort and love.

Eventually he recovered himself enough to say his goodbyes and hang up, incredibly thankful for his boyfriend's patience and love. Deep down he knew that this was for the best; Alzheimer's had been eating away at his grandmother for a while, and death was mercifully painless for her, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. As he returned to his grandmother's room to help his family plan for the funeral, he found himself wishing that Keigo was physically there with him; his parents had each other to lean on during the rest of their stint in America, but who did he have?

The latch clicked under his lifeless fingers and the door squeaked open. Two pairs of eyes turned to him, and he realized how stupid he was being. Of course his parents would be there for him, too. Grief was painful, but it was something a family experienced together. They held each other up, protected and loved one another, offered constant support.

He might have _wished_ for Keigo to be there with him, but he didn't _need _him. Because he had family.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ I'm looking for more prompts/suggestions for this fic, so if anyone is interested, please send some my way!

TG © March 2011


	28. Crush

Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most

By TG

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own PoT or the title of the story.

_Warnings:_ The usual… Probable OOC-ness, unbetaed, written in under 10 minutes.

_Author's Note:_ Bringing this collection back like a baws. Sorry for the length... I've got a sinus infection and I can't brain today D=

_Summary: _Ryoma's father is a conniving bastard when he wants to be.

_Theme: _Crush (thanks to theheroandhisbrit on tumblr)

Enjoy!

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The fuzzy yellow ball bounced past him yet again, and Ryoma had to grit his teeth to keep himself from letting his frustration show to his opponent. He knew the man on the other side of the court was over–exaggerating his excitement just to provoke a reaction from Ryoma and the younger man was not going to let it work.

Across the net, Nanjiroh quit showboating and pulled another ball out of his robes, and Ryoma shoved his thoughts to the side as he got into receiving position. His father was beating him embarrassingly quickly, and it would be obvious to him that Ryoma's mind was on something other than tennis; in fact, he hadn't even wanted to play his father, but he hadn't been given an option.

"_Hey kiddo, something on your mind lately?" Nanjiroh had asked casually over breakfast –Japanese, Ryoma's favorite._

_Ryoma's chopsticks froze halfway to his mouth and he did his best not to look up and meet his father's eyes. As stupid as Nanjiroh could be, he was the one person who knew Ryoma inside and out and would be able to tell he was lying when he said, "No."_

"_Oh, is that so." The older man took a sip of his coffee in an act of nonchalance, but it was just that –an act. "If that's the case then you won't mind having a match with me after breakfast."_

_Ryoma desperately looked toward his mother for help, but she wouldn't meet his eyes either. 'Please, just give me chores to do, anything,' he mentally begged, but his mother just sat at the table, smiling to herself and ignoring her son's plight._

_Just when he was about to relent Nanako walked in –his last hope! _

"_Nanako-san, I um… I need to uh… Go shopping! Yes, I need to buy some uh new tennis shoes! In town! Could you take me?" Ryoma all but begged. His cousin blinked at him and had the decency to at least look apologetic when she told him she had to meet with a study group all day._

_Hopes crushed, he turned back to his father, who was smirking at him over the newspaper._

"_Sorry kiddo, but there's something bothering you and I'm going to find out."_

And here he was, facing off against his father who was beating him soundly. The man had him on a string, running back and forth, forward and back, barely able to catch his breath between serves. And boy was he getting served.

"Come on, kiddo! I know you can do better than this," he taunted, firing off another powerful serve that ended up going unreturned. "Judging from your reactions, it's not school that's preoccupying you… Could it be one of your friends?"

Ryoma missed another shot.

"Momoshiro? No, not him… Could it be your buchou? Fuji?" Ryoma scowled and sent the ball flying back across the net. "Nope, not them, either, huh."

Ryoma grumbled under his breath and played through an entire service game before his father opened his yap again.

"Could it be…Tomoka? Ryuzaki? I bet you have a boner for that Ryuzaki girl!" His father said, shocking him into missing another return. Nanjiroh crowed his apparent victory, muttering stuff about how his kid was growing up into a young man and how he would make many precious babies with Ryuzaki –after they were married of course.

Ryoma just let his racquet fall to the ground and held his hands to his burning cheeks. This was too much. It wasn't until his father started going into detail about their future sex life that he finally snapped.

"BAKA OYAJI. I HAVE A CRUSH. ON ATOBE. NOT RYUZAKI."

Nanjiroh stopped mid-rant and sent him a shit-eating smirk, and Ryoma realized he had just been played.

Shit.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Basically written because I feel bad about going over a year without updating, and then the first thing I update is depressing. Sorry for the quality -_-; I'm actually not in the Prince of Tennis fandom anymore so it's kind of hard to get back into the swing of things. You all should follow me into the Hetalia fandom XD

TG © April 2012


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